


Mooncalves and Thestrals

by Sakhmet



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Care of Magical Creatures, Emotional Hurt, Falling In Love, Fluff, Herbology Class (Harry Potter), Hogwarts, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Pride, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn, Slytherin, elu - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-02-04 18:00:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18609652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakhmet/pseuds/Sakhmet
Summary: Lucas was into Herbology, chocolate frogs, and a certain half-Veela Slytherin.In which Lucas is an observant Hufflepuff and Elliot a Slytherin with a fondness for the care of magical creatures and a certain boy afraid of the dark.





	1. Cinnamon and Jasmine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ve always paid attention to you.”

Sunlight slanted in through the latticework of trellises and wild foliage, dappling the straw-strewn floor of the greenhouse with patterns of shadows. It was an unseasonably balmy autumn’s eve and Lucas fought off the strong desire to doze off in the warmth and sweet scent of the blooming Flutterby bush he was tending to. Lucas yawned and carefully trimmed and pruned the quivering bush that only bloomed once a century – a task that had been carefully entrusted to him by Professor Longbottom after his green thumb had proved time and time again that Lucas was at the top of his year in Herbology.

 

As Lucas stroked a fluttering leaf of the bush and inhaled its wafts of cinnamon and jasmine, a faint squawk caught his attention. Lucas peered through a window nearly obscured by the vines that crawled across it and saw the gaunt form of a baby thestral. A boy was feeding it green apples and stroking its leathery wings… It was Eliott.

Lucas watched as a faint breeze tousled Eliott’s raven hair and a smile grace his face as the thestral playfully nipped at his sleeve. Lucas sighed wistfully and drank in the sight of the beautiful boy.

 

Elliot was a seventh year Slytherin –gorgeous, mysterious, kind, and Lucas’ biggest infatuation ever since he had rescued Lucas in second year from a charging hippogriff. Eliott was a pureblood, rumored to be descended from the House of Gaunt. He was also a rare half-Veela, preternaturally beautiful, with piercing sea-foam green eyes and a bone structure that Daphne regularly waxed poetry about. More than this though, Lucas saw how carefully and lovingly he treated all animals in their Care of Magical Creatures class, how patient he was with the younger students when performing his prefect duties, how he was unfailingly generous with everyone, never once discriminating– for although the war had ended much of the prejudice against the muggle-born, it was impossible to stamp out the prejudice that lingered amongst the pure bloods and the ignorant.

Yes, from the stolen glances and the moments spent  ~~spying~~  looking at Eliott, Lucas had gleaned that Eliott was unfairly perfect and unreal… and Lucas could only be reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess when he was around him.

Of course they had spoken to each other… having three classes together, including herbology, care of magical creatures and potions, made it inevitable that they would cross paths. But every time Lucas looked into his beautiful eyes, Lucas couldn’t help but feel tongue-tied, incredibly self-conscious and inferior in so many ways. Lucas was just a muggle-born orphan with no extraordinary talents like Imane who was one of the most gifted witches of her age, already a fully fledged animagus, or Yann, who was a Quidditch prodigy, the best seeker seen since Potter.

 In no shape or form did Lucas measure up to Eliott’s beauty or his many talents (Eliott was head boy, prefect AND quidditch captain who was on his way to being a top auror in the ministry). No, Lucas was just a shy, unassuming Hufflepuff with a love of all things green and growing. He was content with his life and didn’t aspire for much other than spending time with his friends and someday tending to his own conservatory and aviary.

 

Lucas was broken out of his thoughts when the thestral gave a cry and suddenly went loping across the lawn, headed straight towards the strawberry patch beside the main greenhouse. Lucas immediately dropped his shears and ran to the garden – Professor Longbottom would have his head if his prized strawberries, magically cultivated to be the size of footballs, were to be harmed.

“Come here girl,” Lucas cooed as he held out a chocolate frog stashed in his robes. The thestral gave a small rumble of excitement and snatched the treat from his hand. Lucas smiled and patted her beak, undeterred by her skeletal features and frightening appearance.

 

“You can see her.” Lucas turned to see Eliott standing next to him and staring at him far too intensely for Lucas’ heart to handle as it gave a lurch and began to beat rapidly.  

“Yea… you can too, can’t you?”

Elliott shook his head. “No.” He gave Lucas a sad smile, “Who— ?”

Lucas hesitated. Seeing thestrals was second nature to him, and he had forgotten it wasn’t the most common thing – not everyone played a spectator to death. He swallowed, normally Lucas was hesitant to speak about his parents but the way Elliot was looking at him, intently but softly, made him speak.

“Both my parents… it was towards the end of the war. It was when the death eaters were going after the muggles in a frenzy. My parents had taken me on a family trip to London. We went to the Museum of Natural History in London, I was just a toddler. I just remember an explosion and lots of green lights and seeing my parents lying still on the ground.”

Eliott looked stricken for a moment before taking a step closer. “Lucas I am so sorry. I didn’t realize… I always saw you by the Hogwarts Express being seen off with what I thought were your parents”

Lucas shrugged, “It’s okay, it was a long time ago and it’s just a faint memory now. I live with my aunt and uncle now in Edinburgh, and they are truly the best and…” Lucas fully processed what Eliott had said and quirked an eyebrow, “I didn’t realize you paid attention to me at the train platform.”

Eliott didn’t even hesitate.

“I’ve always paid attention to you.” Lucas felt warmth suffuse across his cheeks as Eliott gave him a fond smile.

“Since second year when that hippogriff nearly took your arm off because you didn’t bow properly. I always see you in the greenhouse and I know you’re quite the herbologist. I was actually going to ask you the other day in Potions for a favor, but you ran off, as always, before I can talk to you. Do you not like me or something?” Eliott looked truly sad.

Lucas spluttered. “Of course not! I just uh, had to tend to the baby mandrakes... you know how finicky they are. I lo- like you! I think you’re really cool.”

“Cool?” It was Eliot’s turn to raise an eyebrow. Lucas internally facepalmed. Cool?! That was the best he could come up with?

“I mean I think you’re really talented and nice and I see how well you treat Hagrid’s thestrals. Normally most people are terrified at them. You have a real gift with magical creatures and animals, and you’re really good at quidditch… I can’t believe you moves you pulled at the last game against Ravenclaw… and I wish I was half as good as you at defensive spells and my god! I heard you could produce a corporeal Patronus in third year… I know you’re going to be an amazing auror one day. Oh! And you have really nice hair!” Lucas’ face was beet red by the end of his unintentional rant.

To his surprise, Elliot had a faint blush on his porcelain skin. “I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me Lucas. Well, the feeling is mutual, I think you have great hair and what I wanted to ask you was if you could help me with the mooncalves. I know Professor Longbottom has left you in charge of the shrivelfigs and I was wondering if you would help me harvest and feed them to the mooncalves tomorrow night. You know how fond the mooncalves are of shrivelfigs and they are due for a treat. Hagrid thinks they may calm down too, they’ve been extra restless around the full-moon”

 

Lucas smiled at the thought of hanging out with Eliott. Alone. At night. Under the moon.“Romantic as fuck” Daphne would probably say. Not to mention he was fond of the mooncalves. Those gentle, shy creatures with their bobbing heads and big, luminous eyes always melted Lucas’ heart.

“I would love to Eliott. The shrivelfigs are due to be picked anyways. When would you like to meet?”

Eliott beamed and Lucas was literally blinded by his beauty as his skin began to glow. “How about after dinner? We can meet in the Great Hall and harvest the shrivelfigs together. I’d love to help out in the greenhouse.”

 

Before he could say anything else. Eliott stepped so close Lucas had to tilt his head up so he could see Eliott’s green eyes that flashed liquid gold for a second. Must be another Veela thing Lucas thought before all his other thoughts were derailed when Eliott brushed an unruly lock of hair from his face.

“And Lucas, I am truly sorry about your parents. I may come from a pureblood family and I know you’ve heard the rumors about my lineage, but not all Slytherins and purebloods believed in all of that magical supremacy rubbish. I know for a fact you’re a gifted wizard. If you ever want to talk, I’m here… I may not have lost my parents, but I know what it’s like to lose someone precious to you.”

Lucas’ breath caught. He looked up from beneath his lashes, shy but grateful, and unconsciously leaned in closer. Elliot radiated warmth and his beauty was so magnetizing up close.

“Thank you Eliott, that means the world to me.”

Eliott’s eyes darkened and seemed to glow molten golden again. He inhaled deeply and reached a hand to Lucas’ face.

A sharp tug on his sleeve had Lucas breaking eye contact. It was the thestral, annoyed at being neglected and hungry for more chocolate treats.

Eliott shook his head as if in a daze and cleared his throat, stepping back. “Well I better get this one back to her pen. I will see you tomorrow evening Lucas.”

Lucas blinked, still not used to the hypnotizing spell of Eliott’s Veela beauty. As Lucas smiled and waved goodbye, cheering inside for having had the longest conversation with Eliott without stuttering or running away, Lucas noticed that Elliott left the intoxicating scent of jasmine and cinnamon in the warm, autumn air. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those uninitiated to Harry Potter:
> 
> Thestral- Black, bat-winged horses that are invisible to those who have never truly been touched by or seen death. Commonly seen and misunderstood as a bad omen in the wizarding world. 
> 
> Flutterby bush - A magical bush that shakes and flutters like a butterfly; blooms only once a century, produces a scent that will lure in their prey and is unique to what their prey is attracted to and finds appealing. Common smells include parchment paper, the sea, cauldron cakes. 
> 
> Mandrake- a plant whose root looks like a human baby. See Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets for these screaming guys :) 
> 
> Mooncalf- I recommend watching Fantastic Beasts if you want to see how cute these guys are. They are sheep-like creatures who only come out of their burrows on a full-moon and create geometric patterns in wheat fields when they perform their mating dances.
> 
> Shrivelled figs - A common ingredient in potions with medicinal properties 
> 
> Veela - semi-human magical beings that are extremely beautiful. When angry, full veelas will transform into something that resembles a harpy (winged, bird creature) 
> 
> Auror - elite, expert wizards trained to investigate crimes related to the Dark Arts (black magic) 
> 
> Chocolate frog - Chocolate treat that is made from croaka, a magical ingredient that allows the chocolate frog to move and act like an actual frog. 
> 
> Avada Kedavra - the unforgiveable killing curse. Recognized by the green flash of light it emits (this is why Lucas remembers seeing green lights when his parents died)
> 
> Feel free to ask me anything if you are unfamiliar :) 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and my artwork!


	2. Chocolate and Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now lets breathe in and out, in and out."

The ceiling of the Great Hall in the morning reflected Lucas’ mood: sunny and radiant with silver clouds threading through azure blue. Excitement and anticipation coursed through his veins – he couldn’t wait for the evening to come.

~

Lucas had barely been able to sleep last night after stumbling into the Hufflepuff common room in a slight daze, thoughts consumed with Elliot and green eyes that burnt gold. As Lucas collapsed into a yellow cushion in the room that was airy and cheery – cedar panelled and full of blooming flowers and magical and non-magical plants – Arthur had glanced up from his transfiguration textbook and sniggered.

“Lulu what’s with the look? You finally got Professor Longbottom’s rare flower to bloom?”

Mika, the far too rambunctious, brash Hufflepuff that Lucas thought had been missorted and really was a sneaky Gryffindor, slung an arm over Lucas’ shoulder. Mika peered at his face, eyes narrowing.

“Wait he looks far too shell-shocked to be mooning like usual over his green, leafy lovers.” Lucas shrugged his arm off and knelt down to cup in his hand Mika’s stray pygmy puff, Wade, that was struggling to navigate its way across the floor. He brought Wade’s pink, fluffy body to his face and cooed, determinedly ignoring Mika and Arthur. “Wade your owner is being an annoying, nosy idiot again.” Wade puffed up and chittered in agreement.

“AA-HA! Let me venture a guess and say that Lucas Lallemant has finally had a conversation that lasted more than 10 seconds with a certain tall, dark, and handsome Slytherin who has a face blessed by Merlin himself and may or may not be Salazar’s descendent!”  

Lucas groaned into Wade’s small, furry body as Arthur cheered victoriously waving a half-transfigured comb with bat wings. “Yay Lulu! We’re so proud of you.” Embarrassingly, almost all of his friends knew of his long-lasting infatuation with Eliott ever since one rowdy celebration over Hufflepuff’ Quidditch Cup win led to a few too many firewhiskies and a drunken rambling confession – that and because of the fact Lucas sucked at hiding his feelings. An open book of secrets, Mika had once called him.

Since then, Mika and Arthur had taken to relentlessly teasing him. Yann who was in Gryffindor and Basille who was the one Slytherin in their friend group who actually interacted with Eliott on a daily basis, also took it upon themselves to conspire to push Lucas and Eliott together – whether that be Basille switching potion partners so Lucas could be with Eliott, or Yann inviting Lucas to the Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch practices so he could catch a glimpse of Eliott in all his  ~~sexy~~  sweaty glory.

~

Now as he settled down for breakfast under the sun-drenched ceiling, Yann ventured over from the Gryffindor’s table and plopped himself down beside Lucas, stealing his last piece of bacon and taking a large swig of his pumpkin juice. Lucas sighed. Basille caught sight of them and excitedly tripped his way over from the Slytherin’s table, oblivious to the dark looks sent their way by some of his peers. Some Slytherins, mostly the pureblood ones with lineages traced to the noble houses were still salty about affiliating with the Hufflepuffs they stuck their noses up at and the Gryffindors who were their longstanding rivals at everything. Lucas had long learned to ignore their spiteful gazes and hissed slurs of "mudblood." Basille sat on Lucas’ other side and gave him puppy dog eyes until Lucas begrudgingly handed over the notes from Herbology class for him to copy. Yann stared at Lucas until he looked up questioningly.

“Well, well Lucas. Guess what a little birdy told us. Lulu may or may not have a date with Eliott this evening?” Yann smirked and fist bumped Basille.

“It’s not a date!” Lucas hissed. “And keep your voice down, you know how nosy Daphne is and if she hears she will never let me hear the end of it.”

“Too late,” muttered Yann apologetically as a slightly wild-eyed Daphne appeared in a flourish of pink hair bows and perfume.

“LUCAS!! Imane told me who heard it from Manon who overheard it from a bunch of third years in the library who eavesdropped on Lisa talking to Emma who was told by Basille who heard it from Mika and Arthur that you have a date!” Daphne shoved over a lovestruck Basille and stole the last bit of Lucas’ pumpkin juice.

Lucas’ rested his forehead on the table and groaned as Daphne began to argue with Basille over who told who. It was IMPOSSIBLE to keep a secret in his friend group.

Suddenly, the chattering and bickering from everyone faded and silence reigned.

“Lucas.”

Lucas looked up blearily from the table and then straightened immediately, cursing himself for not brushing his hair this morning as he flattened his unruly locks and prayed the dark circles beneath his eyes weren’t too apparent.

Green eyes met blue. Eliott smiled at him and the entirety of Lucas’ table sighed dreamily at the half-Veela. “I just wanted to confirm we’re meeting after dinner tonight. Also you look a bit tired so I wanted to give you this –“

Eliott handed him a limited-edition box of chocolate frogs with Dumbledore themed collector cards.  _This is the man of my dreams_ though Lucas as he cradled to his chest his favourite box of chocolates that had a smiling, twinkly-eyed Dumbledore emblazoned on its lid. “To keep your energy levels up. You’ll be needing it tonight.” Eliott winked, amid gasps and Daphne nearly swooning, and strode to his table.

All eyes turned to Lucas. Lucas smiled abashedly and held out the box, “Chocolates anyone?”

 

~

 

Ever since Lucas had rescued Wade from the claws of Arthur’s cat Wilson, Wade had an endearing but slightly inconvenient habit of sneaking into the pockets or hood of Lucas’ robes whenever Mika lost sight of him (which was often), burrowing himself in and seeking the warmth and cuddles these miniature puffskeins so loved.

As Lucas made his way to this last class of the day and the class he most struggled in, Defense Against the Dark Arts (DADA), Wade popped his fluffy body from the hood of Lucas’ robes and settled on Lucas’ shoulder. He began to squeak and chatter incessantly into Lucas’ ear. Lucas shushed him and let him snuggle contentedly into the crook of his neck as he paused to retrieve his wand from his bag in the hallway.

“Cute.”

“F---” Lucas swore in surprise as he whirled around, clutching Wade to his chest. “Eliott! Merlin you scared me! You have the habit of surprising me.”

Eliott beamed his signature squinty, makes-you-feel-warm-inside smile. “I like surprising people.” Eliott stepped closer and stroked Wade who looked equally as lovestruck by Eliott as Lucas was. Wade cooed and puffed up so he was triple his size, an indication of his happiness and approval of Eliott. Eliott looked down at Lucas and Wade with soft eyes. “Cute,” he repeated. Gold swirled in his eyes and for some reason, Lucas knew that Eliott wasn’t just referring to the pink ball of fluff snuggling his chest.

Lucas willed the blush away from his cheeks, he’s just being nice like he is always a stern voice rebuked him in his head, a guy like Elliott did not go for a wizard like Lucas. Lucas cleared his throat.

“Don’t you have potions now in the dungeon? What are you doing up here?”

“I see someone knows my schedule,” Eliott teased and this time Lucas couldn’t help the red that dusted his cheeks. “N-n-noo! It’s just that Basille has the same class as you and told me.”

“Relax, Lucas. I was joking. I do know your schedule though. You have Defense now with Professor Delacour. Well, so it just happens that I’m assisting her in today’s class. I’m in charge of the DADA club and I’ve been doing some tutoring of sixth years for extra-credit, apparently the ministry likes their aurors exemplary on paper. She thought she could use an extra pair of hands for today since you’re working on a fairly advanced stuff today – boggarts.”

Everyone at Hogwarts knew that Eliott was an extraordinarily gifted wizard, but everyone, including Lucas, was still astounded by his abilities. By fifth year he possessed the skills and makings of a wizard three times his age. It was rumored that by second year he had mastered legilimency and that by fourth year he had mastered the most advanced defensive spells taught at Hogwarts and, with special permission from Headmaster Granger, had become a registered animagus. It was no wonder Professor Delcaour wanted him to assist the class.

“That’s cool. I need all the help I can get… I’m still struggling with my patronus charm and I’m already dreading today’s class. I just can’t keep my concentration,” Lucas tried not to pout. He really wanted at least an A in the upcoming NEWT’s and he was already stressed thinking about the array of defensive spells he would need to master. He truly preferred potions, in which he could always rely on his extensive knowledge of plants and herbs, or transfiguration and ancient runes – basically any magic that wasn’t defensive or imbued with a darker purpose. It had been that way since he was a child.

Eliot chuckled and gave one last affectionate stroke to Wade who quivered and squeaked in pleasure. “Well that’s what I’m here for…” Elliot looked warmly at Lucas, “…. to help you.”

“Defense against the dark arts is rooted in magic that is light, magic that protects, gives and sustains… much like the green magic you excel in. I’m sure with practice and a bit of guidance you can do well. Shall we go to class?” Elliot spoke so confidently and assuredly about Lucas’ capabilities that Lucas couldn’t help but believe him. He smiled to himself and poked playfully at Wade as he trailed after the Slytherin.

 

~

 

Levitating candles dripped wax upon the window sills of the musty classroom, casting shadows upon the dragon skeleton and iron chandelier that hung from the ceiling. Professor Delacour, a formidable witch and retired auror renowned for her dueling skills, stood in front of the blackboard.

“Class, today we will be focusing on boggarts and expelling them with the Boggart-Banishing spell otherwise known as the _riddikulus_ charm. Can anyone tell me what a boggart exactly is?”

Yann threw his hand up eagerly, a member of the dueling club at Hogwarts and like, Eliott, aspiring to become an auror. “A boggart is a shape-shifting non-being that takes the form of someone’s greatest fear. It’s amortal meaning that the  _riddikulus_ charm won’t truly kill it, but rather banish them.”

“Excellent Mr. Cazas! 10 points to Gryffindor. That is correct. Now can anyone tell me how the _riddikulus_ charm exactly functions?”

Lucas tentatively put his hand up. “It transforms the caster’s greatest fear into a form that is humorous, counteracting the boggart’s ability to terrorise.”

Professor Delacour smiled. “Correct Mr. Lallement! 10 points to Hufflepuff. Now we already practiced the wand movements last class; today is the time to point them to practical use. In this wardrobe is a stray boggart that Eliott has so kindly caught lurking in the west wing. He will be assisting us today, _half of the students in the room sighed as Eliott smiled encouragingly,_ as you face off against the boggart. Form a line please!”

With the chatter of excitement and anticipation, the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs in the room shuffled into a line. Yann was practically vibrating in eagerness but seeing Lucas’ trepidation, patted him encouragingly on the back, “It’s ok you’ll be fine Lucas! We practiced this spell before. C’mon we all know your fear is probably a weed infested garden.” Lucas nodded but couldn’t help the insidious curl of doubt and dread in his chest. What he feared most…….

“Eliott! would you like to demonstrate to the class the proper way to dispel a boggart?”

Eliott pulled out his wand, ebony and ash, and pointed it to the shuddering, creaking wardrobe. His green eyes became razor focused and his brow furrowed in concentration.  Lucas held his breath. What could Eliott possibly fear?

Bam! The door flew upon and a black amorphous shadow drifted out before swirling into… Lucas breath caught … into a mirror. The mirror was simple, silver-framed and about 6 feet tall. Staring out from it, meeting Lucas’ gaze, was Elliot, but not quite. This Elliot’s eyes were pitch black and his skin so pale it seemed translucent. What shocked Lucas the most however was the utter lack of expression upon this Eliott’s face – cold, vacant, apathetic, callous. This Elliot stared unblinkingly out from the polished mirror barely breathing, barely living. The shadows in the mirror deepened and darkened.

“ _Riddikulus_!”  _Crack_

 Silver lines and cracks appeared on the surface of the mirror until there was a shatter…. Silver dust, fragments of the mirror, swirled in the air before forming a myriad of ever-changing shapes. The class oohed and ahhed and laughed in wonder as the dust formed a puppy that leapt into a sleek otter before swirling into a giant puffskein before becoming the shape of a leprechaun doing a jig.

“Impressive as always Mr. Demaury!”

Eliott smiled, looking calm and unaffected but Lucas noticed an almost imperceptible tremor in Eliott’s hand. Before Lucas could ponder what the form of Eliot’s boggart meant, Professor Delacour’s voice rang across the room.

“Lets see what you guys got. Yann Next!”

For Yann, the boggart to Lucas’ surprise whirled and swirled before taking on three forms. Lucas looked back at a duplicate of himself, Arthur and Basille. However, these versions of themselves were encased in glass boxes. Water filled the boxes to the brim. All three boys’ mouths were open in silent screams, their eyes wide in terror.

The class gasped and Yann faltered. The boggart version of Lucas began to convulse as Yann froze in horror. “Focus Yann!” Elliot called out, his face unusually tense.

 _Riddikulus!_ Crack

The glass smashed and water poured out, suddenly the versions of Lucas, Arthur and Basille were whooping as they surfed and splashed upon columns and torrents of water.

Lucas was unable to join in on the laughter around him, discomfited with seeing himself nearly drowning, but he felt an intense surge of love and gratitude for his best friend… Yann was most afraid of being unable to help his friends… A true Gyrffindor through and through.

~

As the line began to dwindle, Lucas saw vampires and spiders, a basilisk, a stern father, a report card full of failing grades, and strangely, a large paper full of tiny holes (“Daphne has trypophobia” Yann had whispered to him seeing Lucas’ perplexed expression).

Fears upon fears that became trivial and powerless with the flick of a wand and  _riddikulus_. Lucas slowly started to relax. _I can do this._

“Lucas your turn!” Lucas steeled himself as he approached the swirling form of the boggart.

 

He turned to look at Elliott, saw him smile reassuringly, saw his brilliant emerald eyes before he heard the screams and saw everything in flashes tinged sickly green.

 

Screams, bloodcurdling screams. A crying little five year old boy surrounded by carnage, rubble, blood, bodies.

Echoes of the Unforgiveable curses charging the air, making the air seethe and roil with dark magic, screams, pain, confusion.

The boy kneels down beside two bodies, still cold, lying with unseeing eyes. _Mom, Dad Wake Up_. A grim, skull mask taunting him. A wand pointed at a five year old boy who just wanted to have a fun day with his parents marveling at dinosaur bones and fossils. _Crucio._

Lucas freezes and cannot breathe, cannot think. He hears screams but cannot tell if they are from his classmates, the boggart constructed nightmare, or himself. He remembers the cold, the paralyzing dread, and two hands intertwined so very still.

 

_RIDDIKULUS!_

Lucas vaguely hears Elliot’s voice but the world seems to be shaking and ripping at the seams and he can’t be certain of anything.

Lucas heard muffled voices, hushed whispers, feels a hand on his wrist leading him away. Warm hands gentle on his face, brushing away tears. He feels the sensation of warmth and jolts.

Eliott is looking at him cupping his face. “Lucas. Lucas. Come back. It’s okay, you’re going to be fine. Just breathe. You’re safe, you’re safe.” Lucas realizes the world isn’t shaking, but he is – shivering uncontrollably, his breath coming out in searing bursts. Lucas feels the panic reach fever pitch as he starts hyperventilating, his chest becoming too small, constricting his rabbit pulse. .

“Shhhh. Lucas look at me. Lets breathe together ok? I only want you to focus on me and my voice. You’re in a safe place with me. Nothing can hurt you here. Now lets breathe in and out, in and out.” Elliot takes Lucas’ trembling hand, places it on his chest to feel a steady beat, a steady pulse to follow with his own.

 _In and out, in and out, in and out_.

Lucas feels the tension and aching ease in his chest, his quaking slowing, and awareness returning in bursts. He’s practically sprawled across Elliot’s lap, one cold hand on his broad, warm chest. They’re alone in a silent, sunlit room filled with dust motes. The silence and sun makes a mockery of Lucas’ nightmare.

“Lucas you’re okay. Here, have some of this, it helps, trust me.” Eliott brushes the hair out of his face and hands him a square of dark chocolate.

Lucas mechanically takes it and bites into it, the sweetness of the chocolate overpowering the bitter tang of fear upon his tongue. Elliot continues to hold Lucas’ hand to his chest, stroking it softly, in tandem with their breaths. A soft chitter reaches his ear and Lucas looks down to see Wade looking with sad eyes at him as he puffs up to keep Lucas warm. He cuddles up to Lucas neck chirruping softly.

So Lucas sits, with Eliot feeding him bits of bittersweet chocolate, the measured, soft cadence of his voice caressing him and the unwavering green eyes, so unlike the green of his nightmares, holding his teary eyes spellbound.

The warmth of his voice and the gently tracing of his fingers upon Lucas’ hand slowly leach the icy shards of unspeakable fear from his body. Wade is a bundle of warmth at his neck and Lucas is tired.

Lucas leans his head against Eliott’s chest and closes his eyes. _To forget_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More helpful reminders:
> 
> Great Hall's Ceiling: The dining hall's ceiling is bewitched to mirror the sky and mimic its weather outside. 
> 
> Pygmy puff: a miniature puffskein, a magical creature that resembles a round, small and fluffy ball. They love to be cuddled, are extremely adorable, and come in shades of pink and purple. Originally bred by Fred and George Weasley.
> 
> NEWT: Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Test. The subject specific exams seventh years students have to take at Hogwarts to qualify as wizards. O is an outstanding grade. E is exceeds expecatations and A is acceptable. Note: the Ministry of Magic only accepts Auror applicants with at least five N.E.W.T.s with top grades of either 'Outstanding' or 'Exceeds Expectations.'
> 
> Legilimency: Kind of like mind reading, the act of magically navigating through another's mind. Occlumency is the act of shielding one's mind from the invasion of a legilimens. 
> 
> Animagus: A witch or wizard that can morph into an animal at will. Extremely difficult to master. Any guesses on Eliott's animagus form?


	3. Copper and Beech

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "With just a few words the beautiful boy in front of him seemed to rearrange his world, seemed to see right into him."

When Lucas was eight still not quite settled in his new home in Scotland, his aunt and uncle decided fresh air and a break from the city would help his nightmares and insomnia.

They took him on a road trip throughout the Highlands. The streets of Paris and his childhood, the bustling cafes and restaurants and busy boulevards of the sixth _arondissement_ , were a far cry from the space, wildness, and calm of the moors, hills and lochs. He distinctly remembers the wind, the wind that roared and whipped through Lucas’ hair, cold and invigorating. He remembers the golden gorse and purple flowers of the thistle that dotted the highlands’ depths of pine, umber and sienna. He remembers seeing what the Scots called “hairy coos” and being delighted by their gentle eyes and the fringe of fur that nearly obscured them. Above all, he remembers the simplicity, the peace, and the almost dream-like tranquility that stole over him. There was nothing but miles and miles of evergreen freedom.

 

~

 

Lucas opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was what appeared to be streaks and bubbles of copper and gold. Lucas was consumed by the same blissful calm he had found in the freshness and solitude of nature. He felt warm and well-rested, only a lingering tension in his head and swollen, tender eyes belying his ease. He felt a vibrating bundle of fur at his pulse point that could only be a snoring Wade.

His head rested upon something warm and something was brushing through his hair, mussing it and teasing its ends. It felt so good and the sensation almost lulled him back to sleep. He snuggled closer to the sturdy warmth that seem to enclose him, surrounding him in comforting wafts of jasmine and cinnamon.  

“Lucas.” A soft voice called.

Lucas jolted and looked up. Eliott peered down with concern and such softness in his face that Lucas froze in wonder for a moment before his brain kicked in. He was sitting in between Eliott’s legs, his face mashed against his chest; one of Elliot’s arms wrapped around his torso and the other resting in his hair. Lucas blinked his blurry eyes and the vague swirls of copper and gold that he saw sharpened into flowers that swirled and danced in the air.

“Oh Merlin! I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you! I am so sorry Eliott.” Lucas tried to disentangle himself from Eliott, but Eliott gripped him firmly by the waist.

 “Hey, hey its okay. You fell asleep. You look so exhausted and what after what happened… well you looked liked you needed the rest and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.” As Eliott spoke the flowers floating in the air whirled and tickled Lucas’ cheeks.

“Sorry about that. While you were sleeping, I thought I should practice some of my charm work before the NEWT’s.”  Lucas looked up in awe as softly glowing golden and copper gladiolus, chrysanthemums, peonies, roses, asters, lily of the valley, and countless blossoms rippled and formed eddies in the air. “It’s beautiful Elliot. I love flowers, especially irises.” Lucas blushed at his admission, admonishing himself for saying such a thing. But Eliott just smiled fondly.

 “I know.”

“How long was I asleep for?”

“Only for about an hour.” An hour! Lucas wanted to die. Eliott had to spend a whole hour patiently waiting for Lucas… watching him sleep… Lucas prayed he hadn’t carried out his annoying habit of talking in his sleep. Merlin knows what he says about Eliott in his dreams.

 

Lucas looked down, avoiding Eliott’s discerning eyes. There was no avoiding it. An icy thread of worry wound its way through the warmth. “What happened… after the boggart…”

Eliott sighed, a soft downturn to his lips. “After your boggart appeared as… well after it appeared the whole class was stunned and scared … and well boggarts feed on fear, makes them harder to dispel, makes the fear they take on much more – potent. Once I dispelled it, Professor Delacour looked after the class and I took you to this spare classroom. You were having a panic attack and I helped you calm down. Professor Delacour feels awful by the way, I know it wasn’t her intention to deliberately hurt or traumatize anyone – its just that since the war she’s much of the mentality that students should be prepared for anything and everything. I know Yann is also worried sick and if it wasn’t for the fact that he knows you shouldn’t be overwhelmed right now he’d be kicking down the door.”

Lucas didn’t know what to feel. He was numb in the sense that he was trying to deaden and dull any memories of what he saw, cutting off the disturbing torrent of dread and grief. Yet he felt the faint tendrils of self-loathing and disgust grow stronger before constricting his breath— how pathetic was he. How inept and pitiful Eliott must find him for not being able to do what every other witch and wizard worth their grain of salt could do. He felt ashamed and embarrassed, the pain and grief that haunted him throughout his life laid bare for all to see. He felt vulnerable.

Warm fingers tilted his chin up. Green eyes reflecting gold. “Hey. You better not be beating yourself up about what happened or feeling embarrassed at all, you hear me Lucas?”

Lucas nodded mutely but Eliott wasn’t convinced. A thumb brushed the dark circles beneath blue eyes.

“What we fear is often out of our hands, something we cannot control, and what you fear is most deep and dreadful – something most people cannot even comprehend and move on from. And you don’t have to move on from it, I know that type of fear and those memories can stay with you your whole life, but you can conquer it bit by bit… And I’ve seen you Lucas. You are so strong and brave. You’re the best Herbology and Potions student Hogwarts seen since Longbottom and Granger. You have such good friends that love you for you are and what you are is just… so … so good.”

Lucas breath caught. He stared back at Eliott speechless, a bubble of wonder and hope rising in his chest. With just a few words the beautiful boy in front of him seemed to rearrange his world, seemed to see right into him. Eliott surprised him.

“Eliott… Thank you.” Lucas took a deep breath, _be brave_ , and leaned into Eliott wrapping his arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you I really mean it. Not just for the boggart but for everything. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve met and – and I really look up to you.” Lucas looked shyly up at Eliott and heard his breath catch. The half-Veela’s irises were gold, his pupils dilated.

 

Eliott leaned in tantalizingly closer, arms shifting to rest upon Lucas’ hips. He inhaled.

“You smell good Lucas – like lilies and – ” Lucas closed his eyes as warm breath whispered and teased his neck “vanilla.” Eliott’s voice was deep and it rumbled in Lucas’ ears.

Lucas shivered. “Thanks, it’s just cologne. Yann got it for me from some shop in Diagon Alley.” Lucas felt like the air around them was thick with heady tension and could have sworn that Eliott’s eyes flickered down to his lips before shaking his head as if clearing his mind.

“Lucas… do you want to talk about what happened…about what we saw in the classroom?”

Lucas hesitated. “Not right now.” Eliott didn’t push. He nodded understandingly but then pursed his lips.

 “Do you often get panic attacks?”

Lucas suppressed a flinch and the urge to curl into himself. Wade chirruped as he stirred awake and nuzzled into Lucas’ neck. “Not a lot….only when I’m feeling particularly overwhelmed and exhausted… and if I’m reminded of…. of certain things in the past. I usually just try to calm myself down and find a quiet space.” Lucas didn’t want to worry his friends unnecessarily and was partly afraid to tell them about his debilitating bouts of anxiety and breath-stopping fear – yes, Lucas was a pro at bottling things up.

“Oh Lucas.” Eliott looked compassionately at him. “I used to get panic attacks all the time… after something bad happened to me. I know what it’s like. I just want to let you know that you don’t have to go through it alone if you don’t want to. It helps to be with someone who can ground you. Just know I’m only a wand flourish away.” Eliott winked.

 “Oh wait, that reminds me. You dropped your wand… after the boggart appeared.” Eliott handed Lucas’ wand over after stroking the richly-hued whorls of the beechwood admiringly. “This is a powerful wand Lucas. Beechwood is not for the intolerant and weak.” Elliot paused and closed his eyes. He opened them and smiled sadly. “And a thestral tail hair core. This is a rare wand. Ollivander’s work?”

Lucas smiled at Eliott’s compliment. “Yes! It was one of his last wands before he retired. I was lucky.” Lucas paused before tentatively venturing on, “Your wand is beautiful. I heard it’s ash… and is it true it has a basilisk horn core?”

Eliott just smirked at him. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Lucas scoffed. “Fine then.” He playfully nudged Eliott in the ribs and felt lighter than he had in weeks.

 

~

 

The shadows in the room deepened and grew as the sun set. Lucas and Elliot stayed in the warm, dusty room sitting side by side… talking about anything and everything, pretending not to notice the soft looks they intercepted from each other. Hours could have passed, and Lucas wouldn’t have noticed – except his stomach did.

After Lucas’ stomach protested with a loud grumble Elliot laughed. He stood and reached down to help Lucas up.

“It’s about time for dinner. I don’t know about you, but I am famished. We’re going to need all our energy if we’re going to be wrangling the mooncalves later. A house elf told me we’re going have treacle tart and butterbeer cookies for dessert too! … Oh here’s a pick me up before dinner.” Eliott rifled in his pockets before handing Lucas a chocolate frog. Wade squeaked in protest and Eliott rolled his eyes before feeding the pygmy puff a nibble of chocolate.

“I almost forgot!” Eliott raised his wand and the canopy of flowers above them faded away in golden dust and copper wisps. Lucas couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as Eliott unexpectedly took his hand and led him out of the room.

 

As Lucas munched on the chocolate frog that had nearly evaded him in a well-timed leap, he felt a warmth in his chest that didn’t feel like it would subside anytime soon. He wondered briefly, before Eliott’s dazzling smile and playful ribbing distracted him, about the ridge of a scar he felt upon Eliott’s palm and the flash of faint scarring upon his arm – nearly indiscernible, like fine silvery threads stitched upon ivory silk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Treacle tart: A popular dessert in the wizarding world that is made of pastry and golden syrup. It was Harry Potter’s favourite. 
> 
> Beechwood: Wands made of beechwood match wizards that are wise and adept. They perform weakly for those that are narrow-minded and prejudiced. 
> 
> Ash: Wands made of ash are best suited to wizards that are courageous, confident and steadfast in their beliefs and purposes. 
> 
> Wand core: The magical substance within the wand, usually extracted from a magical creature, that gives the wand its power. Common cores include phoenix feathers, dragon heartstrings, unicorn tail hairs and even Veela hair. Lucas’ wand is rare because a wand with a thestral hair core can only be wielded by a witch or wizard that is able to face death. 
> 
> Basilisk horn: This was a wand core used by Hogwarts founder Salazar Slytherin. 
> 
> ~ I used to live and study in Scotland… the Highlands are absolutely stunning. It’s no wonder JK Rowling set Hogwarts there. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and thank you for the lovely comments so far.


	4. Calla Lilly and Vanilla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Lucas couldn’t help but feel that he was showing Eliott an important part of himself, a secret, special garden he coveted and kept away from the eyes and hands of the careless."

As soon as Lucas set foot in the Great Hall, he was swarmed. Arthur hugged him before he was pushed aside by a frantic Yann who then nearly succeeded in bulldozering over Lucas. As Yann smothered him in a bear hug, Lucas could hear the concerned voices of Manon and Daphne in the background.

“Lucas! Merlin, are you alright? You gave me the biggest scare of my life, and if Eliott hadn’t already done so, I would have kicked that boggart’s ass.” Yann pulled back and met Lucas’ eyes, his voice growing grave. “Seriously man, I’m here for you if you ever want to talk. Okay? No pressure. What happened to you… I probably wouldn’t have ended up half as strong or as composed or as amazing as you are.” He playfully nudged Lucas “I would have become a hoodlum wizard on the streets or a delinquent like Baz.”

“Hey!” Basille shouted indignantly before jabbing Yann in the stomach. To Lucas’ surprise Basille also hugged him and looked serious – an occurrence about as rare as a blue moon. “Lucas… I don’t know if you know, but my mom was a muggle who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time… some dementors escaped from Azkaban cornered her. The aurors arrived in time to save her life but not her mind, the parts of her that mattered most. All I’m saying is that I know what its like to lose a parent in a way… and to deal with some dark shit. I’m also here if you want to grab a firewhisky and talk.”  

Lucas faltered, never aware the constantly happy and joking boy held such a dark secret in. “Thank you Baz.” He gave a huge hug back to Basille and felt a rush of warmth and gratitude to all his friends. No judgement, no pity, no pressure to immediately open up.

Maybe Lucas thought highly of friends too soon because Daphne opened her mouth. “By the way Lucas, I heard Eliott swooped in like a gallant knight and rescued you and took you to a room all by yourselves.” Daphne raised her eyebrows suggestively. “What sort of stuff did you guys get up to in there?” Lucas wanted to curl up and die of embarrassment.

Eliott, who had been lingering at the edges, still a bit shy around Lucas’ friends, cleared his throat. “Ahem well let me assure you Daphne I was the perfect gentleman and that Lucas was in no state to get up to any “stuff,” at least not the stuff you’re imagining.”

Daphne started. “OH! Didn’t see you there Eliott. Please continue taking good care of our baby Lulu.” She winked at Eliott. “If only you knew how much Lucas moons over you in –” Lucas slammed his hand over her mouth.

“OKAY. That’s quite enough. Sorry about that, Eliott. She tends to spout nonsense when she hasn’t had cake and butterbeer in her body.” 

Elliot chuckled and to the collective delight of all of Lucas’ friends, slung an arm over Lucas’ shoulder.   
“Let go eat shall we?”

~

The ceiling above them was suffused in the glow of sunset – oranges and pinks painted the sky and made the clouds aflame with tangerine and rosé.

The soft light made Eliott look ethereal; Lucas kept sneaking glances, between mouthfuls of roasted chicken and potatoes, at the way Eliott’s long lashes cast shadows upon his cheeks, or the way the light turned his face into sculpted marble and agate. Eliott had forgone, much to the dismay of the Slytherins, his usual spot at his house table to sit with Lucas’ motley crew of Hufflepuff, Gyffindor and Ravenclaw friends. He was proving to be a great distraction; Lucas nearly inhaled his pumpkin juice when Eliott winked at him and by dessert Lucas had to suppress the strongest urge to reach over and touch Eliott’s glossy, soft black hair. Lucas, for his part, did not notice the soft looks Eliott sent his way in return, or the way Eliott sighed longingly when he looked at him – but Manon and Daphne did… and they could barely contain their delight.

As Basille downed his fifth treacle tart, Lucas overheard the excited titters of a couple of third year Ravenclaws across from them. 

“Did you hear about what happened? The ministry has upped their security around Azkaban.”

“Fears of death eaters –”

“Reported sightings of– ”

“Dementors spotted in –”

“They’re just spouting the gossip and drivel from Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet. It’s just a bunch of writers and journalists trying to stir up trouble. People are always looking for a scandal or to profit from a “return” of a dark lord.” Yann rolled his eyes at the gossiping third years.

“What are they talking about though?” asked Lucas curiously.

Manon looked up from her half-eaten plate of cookies, “Didn’t you hear? Apparently, there was an attempted escape from Azkaban – they’re not saying which prisoner attempted it though. There’s also been reported sightings of dementors around rural towns and purported death-eaters just outside of London.”

“It’s codswallop if you ask me!” Basille spoke up, his mouth full of treacle tart. “All death-eaters are currently chained up in Azkaban and any left would be mad to show their faces now.”

Lucas felt unease build in his chest.

The softest tap on the side of his calf broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up at Eliott who smiled reassuringly at Lucas and then nudged his leg again. “Don’t worry, all of these news and reports is nonsense and here say, especially if it comes from Skeeter. People always like to dwell on the past and fearmonger. No need to worry ok? Not when we’re about to witness the wonder of Basille eating his ninth treacle tart! Seriously, I didn’t think it was humanly possible to fit that much food in one body.”

Daphne wrinkled her nose. “It’s appalling.”

As the table erupted into good-hearted bickering and joking, Lucas struggled to cast out the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach, but when he and Eliott began a game of footsie under the table, he only had eyes and thoughts for the half-Veela across from him.

 

~

 

Greenhouse Number 4 was a botanic prism of row upon row of teeming magical plants, trees, and herbs.

Constructed in the Art Nouveau style, the tall, glass structure was Victorian in its grandeur and intricate stained-glass windows that contained dancing figurines modeled after Alphonse Mucha’s “Four Seasons.” It was Lucas’ sanctuary. Many a lazy afternoon or sunset evening Lucas had spent in the drowsy green depths of the greenhouse, smudging dirt across his face as he repotted Mandrakes or carefully watered Venomous Tentacula. Other times he simply spent napping or reading, eating sweet strawberries he pilfered from the garden as he flipped through the worn, creased pages of novels by his favourite muggle authors – Jules Verne, Haruki Murakami, Mikhail Bulgakov, Angela Carter. His favorite spot was a well-worn patch of dirt beneath the shade of an arbutus tree that had been gifted to Professor Longbottom from the Canadian Ministry of Magic. There, beneath the russet and copper peeling bark of the tree, Lucas would while away many an hour, and when the sun shone through a spectacular stained glass rose window (it contained a mischievous nymph that like to wink saucily at Lucas), glimmers of colour – seafoam green, pale pink, ultramarine – shone upon Lucas’ world.

When his thoughts became too much, when he had a sleepless night of worrying, worrying, worrying… when he needed some alone time away from his friends… he would come to his green stained-glass refuge.

So, it was with butterflies in his stomach that Lucas led Elliot to the domed structure of his haven after dinner. Lucas couldn’t help but feel that he was showing Eliott an important part of himself, a secret, special garden he coveted and kept away from the eyes and hands of the careless.

But from the moment Lucas had met Eliott, he knew he was different. Different from the short-lived flings he had in the summer of sixth year, brash, confident muggle boys who loved Lucas in bits and pieces, not his entirety – not his naturally introverted demeanor nor his bouts of shyness. Different then his boyfriend in the fifth and sixth year at Hogwarts, a pureblood – a handsome Gryffindor named Alex who sneered at Lucas’ “love of worms and dirt” and urged him to not be so “dull” and to loose more. Alex who looked down from his lofty pedestal of privilege, urging Lucas to try his hand at being something that had more prestige than dirtied hands and flowering bushes.

As Eliott entered the greenhouse, looking reverently at the cascade of vines and moonflowers that flowed from the ground to the ceiling, holding Lucas’ hand, his green eyes glinting with excitement, Lucas knew he was different.

Eliott grinned at Lucas as he took in the thriving plants and trees that Lucas nurtured so carefully and was so familiar with that he almost saw them as his pets, even as his friends.

“I’ve never come in here before! Whoa is that devil’s snare over there? Wow, this is truly beautiful Lucas. Can you show me your favourites in here?”

Eliott’s unbridled enthusiasm was refreshing and warmed Lucas’ heart; Lucas was secretly very proud of all the work he had put into the greenhouse and was glad someone could finally appreciate it with him.

Lucas led Eliott to the arbutus tree. “I know it’s just a normal, muggle-cultivated type of tree, but this arbutus tree is not only beautiful but useful. Professor Longbottom got it when it was just a sapling, and over the years we’ve augmented it with magic – the red berries it produces have mild restorative properties, similar in effect to the Pepperup Potion, and its bark can be used as parchment or in a medicinal tincture.” Lucas continued, voice growing quieter as he became a tad shy. “I like to come here to read all the time, Wade, the little devil, loves peeling of the bark with his sharp little teeth. I often bring him here when he’s tired of the dormitories. It’s a nice place to just sit and relax… and to just think.”

 

Eliott was giving him that look again, eyes soft and gentle. He reached out to gently touch the peeling orange bark that revealed the golden trunk beneath. “It’s incredible Lucas. You should be proud of yourself… Let me know if you ever want company. I’d love to spend time with you here.”

Lucas’ face grew warm and he could barely restrain himself from leaping and shrieking in excitement like some crushing, prepubescent teen.

 

~

 

Picking shrivelfigs was a tricky, prickly affair. The small purple fruits were easy to pick barring the numerous thorns that lined the branches and stems of the plants.

As Eliott rolled up his sleeves and prepared to clip the wrinkled shrivelfigs from their branches, Lucas’ eyes were drawn to the silvery lines upon Eliott’s hands and forearms, the scarring more apparent under clear light. They were strangely beautiful, silver lines that embellished rather than marred Eliott’s fair skin. Curiosity soon won over propriety, and

“Can I ask where you got those from Eliott?” Lucas couldn’t help but reach to gently trace the ripples of scarring upon his arm.

Elliot shivered and caught Lucas’ hand gently. His green eyes grew solemn.

“They were from a childhood incident… an accident from a long, long time ago. I’ll tell you about one day… just not today. Today we’re going to have fun and focus on de-stressing and making you feel 200% after what happened earlier. Okay?” His thumb stroked Lucas’ palm and his tone brightened as he smiled down at Lucas.

“How about we get started on those shrivelfigs?”

~

Elliot, for as much as he was a talented at dueling, charm work and basically all magic, was incredibly clumsy and impatient when it came to Herbology. He kept scratching his arms as he set about harvesting shrivelfigs, intent on collecting as many as he could. Lucas smiled fondly as he watched Eliott look so focused on the task and concentrated you would have thought he was writing his NEWT’s, not cutting down some stubborn fruit.

“Ouch!” A small drop of blood welled from the finger Eliott’s had pricked upon the razor sharp thorns of the shrivelfig.

Without a second thought, used to accumulating scrapes and cuts tending to some of the more dangerous plants in the greenhouse, Lucas instinctively brought Eliott’s finger to his mouth and gently sucked. It was only when he looked up at met Eliott’s eyes, pupils dilated with only a small ring of gold around them, did he feel the intoxicating heat and intensity radiating from Eliott.

Lucas breath stuttered and he didn’t know what possessed him –maybe Eliott’s inherent Veela magnetism – but he bit gently on Eliott’s finger before soothing the nip with one last swirl of his tongue. He looked up and Elliott again and licked his lips.

“Merde! tu me rends fou. Tu es si beau.”

Eliott swore softly, reverting back to his mother-tongue that Lucas only shakily remembered from his childhood. He moved swiftly closer to Lucas, threading his fingers through his hairs and tugged gently, eliciting a soft whine from Lucas. His other hand gently traced Lucas’ lips before they moved to his chin to tilt his head up. Lucas felt his heart frantically beating in his chest like the wings of a hummingbird. Eliott leaned in, his eyes on Lucas’ lips. So close, a hair’s breadth apart, breaths mingling, eye lashes fluttering, lips… so close.

SLAM!

“Lucas! Are you in here my boy? I have the flutterby bush for you to tend to here! It’s flowers are coming along nicely!

Professor Longbottom’s cheerful voice pierced their bubble of intimacy and Lucas abruptly stepped back from Eliott, his cheeks pink and his hair a tousled mess. Eliott looked frustrated… and wrecked. He was panting softly and his eyes looked slightly wild – but as he drew in a deep breath they slowly lost their golden glimmer, fading back to their usually emerald green.

“Yes over here professor! I was just harvesting the shrivelfigs with Eliott here.”

Professor Longbottom toddled over happily, looking like an excited child with the flutterby bush cradled in the crook of his arm. “Hi Lucas! Hi Eliott! Look here, some of the flowers are blooming!”

As both boys peered closer at the quivering bush, pale petals unfurled to form a small, iridescent, faintly glowing flower before their eyes. They gasped in wonder. “They only bloom once a century… Isn’t it a sight to behold!” Professor Longbottom was ecstatic as he caressed the luminescent blossom.

“They are beautiful professor! They also smell delightful – like calla lilies and… and… a hint of vanilla bean! Actually, kind of like you” Elliot exclaimed excitedly, turning to Lucas.

Lucas blushed.

“My boy what you’re smelling is what most attracts you, the smells that you find most appealing. Flutterby bushes produce a scent to attract the unwary, a scent that is unique to each person’s desires – similar in function to the aroma of the Amortentia Potion.”

Professor Longbottom smiled at the two boys knowingly, winked, and left the flutterby bush with Lucas as he strode merrily away. Lucas gritted his teeth… he was almost convinced that his professor had done that on purpose.

Eliott looked abashed, a faint blush on his cheeks. They stood in silence before Eliott reached over to tug a strand of Lucas’ hair. “Well now its confirmed. You smell good Mr. Lallemant.” Lucas smiled and then stood on his tip toes to brush a lock of hair from Eliott’s face in turn. Lucas spoke quietly, “You too, Eliott… like cinnamon and jasmine. You smell very comforting… like home”

Both boys stared at each other for moment that stretched on… blue eyes lost in green depths… Lucas felt utterly exposed under Eliott’s gaze, but not vulnerable – rather warm and safe.

A clatter and a whistled tune reminded them of Professor Longbottom’s puttering around in the garden nearby, and both boys turned back to the task at hand – minds full of thoughts about how Lucas found Eliott breathtaking and how Eliott found Lucas immeasurably beautiful.

 

~

 

As vanilla, calla lilies, cinnamon, and jasmine swirled in the warm air that seemed heavy and laden with promise, two boys smiled at each other, hearts racing in tandem as they picked shrivelfigs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alphonse Mucha – one of my favorite artists, he was Czech and lived in Paris during the Art Noveau period and he’s iconic for his beautiful illustrations that really defined the highly stylized and decorative era  
> Venomous Tentacula – Green, spiky plant that has vines that try to grab its prey. They expel venom from the spikes that can stun and kill. Highly dangerous. 
> 
> Pepperup Potion – A potion that cures the common cold and is known for warming up the body and producing steam that comes out of the ears and nose. 
> 
> Amortentia –Most powerful love potion. Similar to the flutterby bush, it smells different to each person, according to what attracts them. 
> 
> Jules Verne, Haruki Murakami, Mikhail Bulgakov, Angela Carter – I am going to throw in a reading recommendation list while we’re at it: Verne (French) is renowned for his adventure novels like Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea and Around the World in Eighty Days. Murakami (Japanese) is known for his magic realism and distinctive surrealistic style, I recommend reading Kafka on the Shore. Bulgakov (Russian) his known for his modernist masterpiece, which I also recommend, Master and Margarita. Finally Carter (British) is also a must read. She deals with themes of feminism and social class through a magic realist lens. I highly recommend reading Nights at the Circus. 
> 
> Death Eater – Dark witches and wizards that were ardent followers of Voldemort. Known for cruelty and their torturing and hatred of muggles and half-blood wizards and witches (basically they were pure-blood radically supremacists… )
> 
> Dementors- Wraithlike creature that feed on human happiness and drain a human of all their good feelings – hope, peace, joy. They are said to be one of the most foulest creatures in the wizarding world and are used to guard Azkaban. They give the “Dementor’s kiss” which basically means they suck the soul out of you and leave you in a vegetative state (which is implied to have happened to Basille’s mother.”
> 
> Azkaban- a fortress on an island in the North Sea used to imprison convicted Dark witches and wizards. Most prisoners die or slowly lose the will to live – slowly driven insane by the presence of the dementors. 
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated by you lovely readers; they are what motivates me to keep writing as I slowly get a hand of this Elu fanfiction writing thing ☺


	5. Cumulus and Quicksilver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eliott snarled and Lucas witnessed the true nature of a Veela when furious – a quicksilver, volatile and frightening creature."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things kick off.

A full moon.

The moon was dazzling, leaving luminescent brushstrokes of refracted light upon the waters of the Black Lake. The evening was warm and a slight breeze tickled Lucas’ hair as he trudged alongside Eliott, their arms brimming with shrivelfigs. The air smelled of early autumn – crisp leaves and the rich crackle of pumpkin spice.

The pen where the mooncalves were kept was situated behind a grassy, daisy strewn knoll on the outskirts of the Black Lake. It was a quiet area, a nice spot in the spring and early summer months for students to escape to from the confines of the library during exam season. A perfect, peaceful area to read, study, nap, play quidditch, and air out one’s thoughts in.

Now, the moonlight cast a silvery sheen upon everything, and the evening carved indigo shadows in the hollows and divots of the hillock. Lucas paid no mind to his surroundings though. Not when there was a half-Veela boy beside you transformed by the moonlight and shadow into something inhumanely, breathtakingly beautiful – a chiaroscuro of light and dark.

Eliott’s lashes cast shadows upon his high cheekbones and his eyes were quicksilver; dark one moment, liquid emerald flecked with gold the next. His lips… Well, it was all Lucas could do to not live up to his klutzy reputation and not trip and fall flat on his face with the number of stolen glances he was casting at Eliott’s face.

The boys were silent as reached the mooncalves, Lucas tongue-tied and unsure of what to say after their near kiss in the greenhouse and Eliott with a preoccupied look on his face and pensive, as if mulling over something in his mind.

 

Both boys were abruptly shaken out of their thoughts when a flock of thirty or so mooncalves came dancing up eagerly to them, their bobbing heads giving away their hunger.  Lucas stopped and looked on in wonder at what appeared to be a sea of huge, blue luminescent eyes that blinked back at him in unison.

Elliot approached the mooncalves and all at once they surrounded him, nuzzling him and nipping at his sleeves playfully. There was a familiar, affectionate bond between Eliott and the mooncalves that drew up the corners of Lucas’ lips in a fond smile.

Eliott truly had a knack with all animals and creatures. Although Lucas loved and appreciated most magical creatures, he was always a little apprehensive and nervous, more comfortable and at ease with his plants and seeds. Lucas sighed longingly; he could watch Eliott cuddle and be adorable with the mooncalves all night.

Eliott threw the shrivelfigs in his basket into the air and the mooncalves leapt in the air, defying the laws of gravity like buoyant muggle space explorers that Lucas remembered, long before he knew of magic, once aspiring to be as a child – astronauts.

“Here Lucas! This one was just born two weeks ago, I named him Polaris, after the Pole star in the Ursa Minor. See those markings there? They remind me of the constellation. Isn’t he just a beauty? Here you can pet him.”

With a grin Eliott drew Lucas to the prancing baby mooncalf. He gently took Lucas’ smaller hand in his and placed it on the long, gray furred neck of Polaris who jumped up and down in excitement. Eliott’s hand was a comforting weight atop of his and Lucas felt the impulse to trace the prominent veins that stood out. Polaris was warm and he trilled happily as Lucas and Eliott stroked his neck and fed him bits of a shrivelfig that Lucas tore to pieces.

Lucas sneaked a look up at Eliott. He was looking down at Lucas with razor focus, his face so longing and soft that Lucas’ heart stuttered, and his breath caught.

“Lucas, can I show you something?”

“Yes…” Lucas whispered. The butterflies in his stomach and the palpable tension between them was getting to be too much so after a beat he laughed nervously and added jokingly, “Just as long as you don’t plan on bringing me to the Forbidden Forest to murder me and bury my body for some Dark ritual.”

Eliott laughed. “No nothing of that sort. I promise I won’t take you anywhere that will frighten you scaredy pants. I just want to show you something that I think you will appreciate.”

 

~

 

Eliott led Lucas a few minutes past the knoll into some woodland. The pale bark of the birch trees was painted silver by the moon and occasionally Lucas heard the disembodied hoot of an owl and the rustle of wings brushing undergrowth. Lucas even thought he heard the distant patter of hooves upon the ground.

A snap of twig had Lucas flinching and instinctively grabbing onto Elliot’s wrist hard. Oh Merlin, how embarrassing Lucas thought as he immediately let go of Elliot. Eliott just sniggered and grabbed Lucas’ hand.

“Is Lallemant afraid of the dark? Should I have brought that light contraption muggles use… what is it called again? Oh, a flashlight!” Eliott teased. Lucas blushed but poked Eliott in the side with his other hand indignantly.

“I am not afraid of the dark ok! I’m just nervous because I’m with a strange boy. In the woods. Alone. Not to also mention the fact that it’s almost All Hallows Eve; this is a set up for every classic muggle horror story, ok?”

“Excuses, excuses Lucas. I think you’re terrified right now – but good thing you have me to protect you right?”

“ _Pas peur_!” Lucas said mockingly, reverting back to Eliott’s mother tongue. Eliott’s eyes shone and he beamed, tugging Lucas closer to him. “ _Pas peur_?” Eliott repeated softly. Lucas shook his head.  _Pas peur._

For a heart stopping moment Lucas thought Eliott was going to kiss him as his eyes flickered to gold. However, he just shook his head and smiled at Lucas, tugging him impatiently along by his hand, eager to show him his surprise.

After a few more flinches and startled gasps from Lucas (he wasn’t scared ok, just restless), Eliott exclaimed in excitement.

“Oh we’re here!”

 

Elliott pulled Lucas into a shadowy clearing that was bisected by a small, trickling stream. For a minute Lucas couldn’t decipher anything special about the space, just the vague shapes of blackberry bushes and brambles encircling a clearing of birches and aspen that nearly obscured the moon above with their thick, entangled branches. “Look at this,” whispered Eliott.

 

 _Lumos_!

 

 Eliott held out his wand and light flooded across the ground. Lucas gasped.

 

Translucent, shimmering petals unfurled one after the other and the clearing was transformed into a sea of softly glowing, swaying flowers that emitted light that flickered through every color on a rainbow’s spectrum.

 

“Nightshade cereus flowers!” Lucas smiled and jumped in excitement. “I’ve read about these flowers; they react to light and bloom, becoming bioluminescent for a brief spell before they sleep again. They highly shy flowers, quite rare too, and they are said to be a symbol of….” Lucas trailed off and stuttered.

Warm hands threaded through his hair and tipped his face up to meet molten gold eyes.

“A symbol of infatuation and unwavering loyalty,” Eliott said, softly yet confidently. He looked into Lucas eyes, seeking implicit permission that Lucas gave instantly, in a heartbeat and a soft sigh.

 

Eliott’s lips met his.

 

Lucas gasped and pressed closer to Eliott’ broad chest, lean and sculpted after years of quidditch and athleticism honed in hours of dueling.

Lucas didn’t think of anything – not his lingering worries about the boggart, not the pile of homework that awaited him, not the thousands of thoughts that always swirled in his head – just Eliott.

Just the way his lips molded to his, the way his tongue licked sinfully into his mouth, curling around his and teasing. Just the way his hands framed Lucas’ face before one threaded its way into Lucas’ hair and pulled so deliciously. Just the way he inhaled sharply and moaned as Lucas pressed impossibly, tantalizingly closer and bit into Eliott’s full bottom lip. Just the way their breaths quickened and everything felt so warm and so _good_.

Eliott kissed Lucas as if he was a lifeline, a small flickering candle in the midst of darkness. Lucas kissed Eliott as if he was an anchor, a pillar of security in a storm of chaos. Both boys could have gone on and on in their own rainbow-hued bubble of light in the clearing, but darkness came.

 

 

Night descended abruptly as the cereus flowers folded up in the absence of light. All of a sudden, jarringly, Lucas felt cold. Ice seemed to seep into his very bones. He shivered and pulled back in alarm from Eliott who exhaled shakily, his breath coming out in a chilled puff of vapor.

“ _Lumos Maxima_ ” Eliott held his wand straining his eyes to see beyond the bubble of the light around them. The flowers did not light up again.

 

Lucas noticed belatedly it was eerily silent.

 

He didn’t even notice he was gripping Eliott’s hand hard as Lucas’ heart pounded in his chest.

Suddenly a sibilant sound pierced the hush and a rustling grew closer and louder. Abruptly, Eliott turned to Lucas suddenly, eyes frantic with worry and something else, something Lucas frighteningly couldn’t place.

“Lucas we have to go now. I want you to run as fast as you can, even if I fall behind I want you to keep going.” Before Lucas could even utter a word to protest, the piercing hiss grew to a fever pitch and Lucas jumped as a giant serpent suddenly reared its head into the light cast by Eliott’s wand. It was hardly a foot away and it bared two fangs the size of daggers as it slithered forwarding, herding the two boys to the trunk of an old oak tree. Its eyes were intelligent and blood-red. They gleamed like drops of blood.

“Shit!” Eliott swore loudly. Strangely, Lucas didn’t detect shock or surprise in Eliott, but rather an alarming familiarity with the serpent in front of them. Just when Lucas thought he couldn’t be more frightened or shocked, Eliott started hissing at the snake, susurrating syllables spilling from his lips. The snake paused, swaying, and silently slithered past them into the darkness.

Eliott was a parselmouth.

Before Lucas. could even begin to comprehend what that meant, a silky, lilting voice called out.

“Elliot! Long time no see my friend. I see Yeri was eager to greet you.”

 

A man, impossibly beautiful with Asiatic features and a chiseled bone structure stepped into the clearing with a theatric flourish. He was tall and lean, dressed entirely in robes of black that brought out the inhumanely white pallor of his skin. One hand elegantly grasped a gleaming white wand that seemed ominously to Lucas like a polished piece of bone in the dim lighting.

“My, my. Is this your boyfriend? So little and cute! Mmmmh. And he looks delectable.”

The man smiled with sharpened teeth. Lucas realized with a sick jolt that he was a vampire. Lucas felt his stomach drop.

 “What do you want, Ares.” Eliott glared at the vampire, stepping in front of Lucas, trying to block him from view.

“To talk! Maybe a bite to eat if all goes well?” Ares smirked and stepped closer, eyes glued to Lucas.

 

Eliott snarled and Lucas witnessed the true nature of a Veela when furious – a quicksilver, volatile and frightening creature. The hollows beneath Eliott’s eyes seem to deepen and the irises of his eyes were pitch black and devoid of the warmth Lucas was so accustomed to. His skin was moon-bright and bloodless. His face seemed to grow more angular and sharper – even cruel.

 “Threaten him again Ares and I will dismember you with a stake and kill you” spat out Eliott with such venom that even Lucas recoiled.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I touched a nerve there Eliott.” The mocking smile on Aires face abruptly lost its mocking conviviality and transformed into something much wicked, something much more sinister. “I don’t care who your father is, Eliott. I don’t like being threatened, especially by an unruly child that can’t follow orders.”

 Tension seemed to thicken and crackle in the air – it left the sour taste of fear in Lucas’ mouth and his hands shaking.

 

“Elliot.” Lucas winced at how small and unsure his voice sounded. “Let’s go, come on. Please, let’s go.” _I’m afraid_ was left unspoken in the air.

“Listen to your human Eliott. Run back to Hogwarts like the coward you are, to your simpering professors and spineless headmaster– but remember…” Aires eyes narrowed and he hissed “you can’t hide forever. Soon you’re going to have to do something. It’s coming.”

Eliott pointedly ignored Ares and gripped Lucas’ hand in his, swiping his thumb across it reassuringly. “Okay Lucas. I’m so sorry. The night wasn’t supposed to go like this – let’s go.” Eliott’s eyes met his and they slowly started to brighten to their comforting verdant green again.

Just when Lucas thought he and Eliott could return to the castle, this incident categorized as just a one-off, bad memory, Ares grinned razor sharp.

“Lucas.” Ares closed his eyes and seemed to savor his name. “What a lovely name. You know what? I had a change of heart. Lucas smells too good and I owe Kai a treat.”

 

With that everything happened too fast for Lucas to truly comprehend. A flurry of colors exploded in the air as spells were hurled at each other. Lucas barely had time to dodge out of the way as a crackling jet of red shot towards him.

“Why, you’re quite the nimble one. I’m going to have fun with you”

Lucas looked up, panting, and saw another man. He smiled at him, sick and feral. He looked like he could be the younger brother of Ares, with the same high cheekbones, fine bone structure and wan complexion. Impossibly beautiful and horrifically brutal as his twisted smile revealed pointed incisors. The man that must be Kai stalked forward with a glint in his eyes that Lucas knew did not bode well for him. He cast a glance towards Eliott who was otherwise preoccupied, whirling spell after spell at Ares, who was a snarling blur of movement.

Shit! Lucas swore under his breath and gritted his teeth. He was just a seventh year Hufflepuff with crummy defensive skills – no match alone in a duel with a fully- fledged vampire that much was for sure. The best he could do was to buy some time.

 _Stupefy!_ Lucas shut a stunning spell towards Kai and tried to run towards Eliott, but Kai was too, too fast. Kai deflected the spell lazily and he flitted closer to Lucas, impossibly fast. _Expelliarmus!_ Kai dodged effortlessly and laughed wildly. “The child aims to disarm? How darling!” Kai pointed his wand in a quick, imperceptible movement at Lucas.

 

_Crucio!_

 

Lucas screamed. For one second that seemed endless, that seemed to defy the very limits of time, Lucas was suspended in searing, all consuming agony…. hot knives, a freezing, burning stranglehold …. A pain he had experienced once as a child but the first taste of it could never prepare for him for a second… a pain that obliterated all else – before it all abruptly stopped.

PROTEGO MAXIMA!

A shield charm cast that must have been cast by Eliott cut off all pain and deflected the spell. Lucas tasted blood in his mouth.

 

“I’m going to kill you for that.” Eliott’s voice was dark with rage.

Lucas tried to get up from the ground and looked with blurry eyes as Eliott deftly fended off Kai, a deadly whirl as he shot spell after spell. Eliott’s eyes were glinting shards of obsidian, his lips grimaced in a snarl, illuminated by flickering green light… He was so beautiful, so breathtaking, so deadly. Ares was nowhere to be seen.

 

Lucas wanted to get up from the ground but he felt weighted down unexpectedly and so very, very cold. His breath came out in a rattle and his eyelids felt heavy. All energy, warmth sucked out of him. He felt so joyless, so utterly, utterly alone.

Where were his parents? How long would his friends tolerant him? His aunt and uncle detested him and resented him as an extra mouth to feed and provide for…. Eliott must think him weak and a coward, incapable of anything of worth. Maybe it would have been better if he were with his parents now. Lucas’ eyes blinked sluggishly. Everything was hopeless, so hopeless. As his breath slowed, he felt hollow – nothing to fill his chest but bottomless, endless soul-crushing sadness. What was the point? His eyes slipped shut.

 

LUCAS!

_Expecto Patronum!_

 

A bright white light burnt through Lucas’ shut lids, and he opened them slowly, reluctantly. Through hazy eyes, Lucas thought he saw the sinuous form of a serpentine, winged creature – an occamy. It beat its silver, feathered wings, batting away shadowy forms… it was so beautiful and strong and Lucas smiled dreamily.

Before his vision faded, Lucas looked up.

 

He saw the bright moon. He saw it become eclipsed by what seemed like a shadowy, writhing mass of cumulus clouds and he thought he heard a woman screaming and a boy pleading, desperate.

 

 

“Lucas, please look at me, open you eyes. Come on! Open your eyes. Please come back!”

 

“ _Run Lucas, Run!” The taste of ash and blood. The acrid smell of smoke. Pain pain pain._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Black Lake – Alternatively known as the Great Lake, this lake is known to contain mermaids, grindylows, selkies, a giant squid, and variety of magical, aquatic creatures. Hogwart’s plumbing system drains into this lake. 
> 
> Nightshade Cereus – I based these flowers off of real flowers called night-blooming cereus that are short-lived flowers that only bloom at night. I also chose them because “cereus” is derived from Latin words that mean candle or torch… hint, hint (Eliott sees Lucas as his light). 
> 
> Stupefy – A fundamental offensive spell that temporarily stuns and renders your opponent unconscious  
> Lumos- charm that produces a bright light to emit from the tip of your wand. 
> 
> Expelliarmus – Spell that disarms opponent and forces their wand out of their hand. 
> 
> Protego Maxima – A stronger version of the shield charm that conjures up an almost impenetrable magical barrier against attacks. 
> 
> Parselmouth – Someone with the rare and uncommon ability to speak/communicate with snakes and serpentine creatures. (Descendents of Salazar Slytherin are known to be parselmouths) 
> 
> Occamy- A serpentine creature with wings that can shrink or grow to fit the available space. They are quite aggressive and protective of their eggs that are made of pure silver. Parselmouths can communicate with them.
> 
> Occamy Patronus- The patronus charm is an advanced, powerful defensive charm to cast against dementors. The occamy patronus is said to very rare and can only be cast by a pure soul. Those that cast them are said to be loyal, creative, and protective of their friends. 
> 
> Ares - The Greek God of War. He is often symbolic of the violent, untamed aspect of war. 
> 
>  
> 
> FYI If you want to see what I envision Ares to look like google Manny Jacinto and for Kai, google Jaehyun from NCT.
> 
>  
> 
> I put a lot of thought and symbolism into this chapter, so I hope you enjoyed it! I hope you are having a lovely morning/afternoon/evening wherever you are <3 Comments always appreciated.


	6. Interlude: Enraptured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A childhood of ice, flowers and loneliness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Eliott’s perspective and a snapshot into his backstory, a backstory which I will continue to delve into throughout this fic. It’s a bit heart-rending and bleak because I have channelled my own blue feelings at the moment into it, but I promise Eliott will find his sun soon.

Elliot measured the years in sketchbooks and dried flowers.

Growing up in the Demaury Manor was no easy thing for a child. It’s lofty, baroque ceilings; long, cold corridors; crystal and silver chandeliers; and black onyx and marble fixtures bespoke of opulence and a father’s disdain for anything less than perfection. “Perfection and persistence” was his father’s unofficial motto _. Perfection at the cost of love. Persistence to the blood and bone._

His mother was a Veela – beautiful, obviously, and distant, trapped in a loveless marriage of convenience that brought her nothing but status and the title befitting of someone who married into one of the most ancient and revered wizarding houses in the world.

Eliott inherited her ethereal beauty, hot temper, and bitter hatred for the man that was his father.

 Despite her cold, aloof nature, Eliott did not blame her. He heard the muffled cries at night, and he saw the smudges of blue and purple on her arms. He also knew that she loved him in her own quiet sort of muffled way. In rare moments of almost manic happiness, perhaps fueled by the tempestuous nature that was characteristic of a Veela (or maybe it was the same mental affliction that had been dealt to him), she would bring the sun to Eliott.

A toddler, she would clasp him close to her chest, cooing at his chubby cheeks as she brought him to her garden. She was a gifted witch, even his father conceded that, but what she truly excelled at and loved dearly, was herbology and gardening. While their mansion was cold and lifeless, outside was a thriving idyll. Roses and clementines and apples; wiggentrees and weeping willows and irises. Magical and non-magical flora and fauna flourished and burgeoned under her watchful eye. She would bring Eliott to her garden and greenhouse, plopping him down nearby while she set to work. Eliott could spend hours in drowsy peace, surrounded by earth and soil, as he watched his mom prune the rose bushes or water the leaping toadstools.

Sometimes she would even sing and Eliott’s heart would crack a little; her voice was a siren’s song, haunting, beguiling, and sorrowful. It would always lull him to sleep riddled with dreams of simple, apricot-hued peace.

 

~

 

When he turned eight, his mother stooped down to his height and presented him with a present wrapped in silver and emerald silk. When he opened it, it was a sketchbook, bound in soft black dragonhide and embossed with the family crest – two winged serpents intertwined, an infinity knot of power and pure bloodlines.  When he opened it and flipped through its buttery soft pages that begged to be filled in, a dried flower fell out. A poppy.

“Something to keep the loneliness at bay, and something for you to remember me by.”

His mother had hugged him softly and gently brushed the hair out of his eyes, before turning away, turning back to the taciturn, silent woman whose eyes were hard, impenetrable diamonds.

It soon became tradition; every year on his birthday, his mother replaced his full sketchbook – brimming with his drawings and doodles and dreams – with a new one and a pressed, delicate flower from her garden.

Elliott carefully preserved the evidence of her love for him in a family that valued magical supremacy and untainted reputation over something as fragile and undependable as love. He kept the dried forget-me-nots, amaranths, baby’s breath, and hydrangea in his school trunk beneath his bed, tucked safely away from his father’s disapproving eyes between the pages of the first sketchbook his mother gifted him. A garden of worn, faded love.

 

When he killed his mother, Eliott continued to buy soft, ebony sketchbooks– a painful homage to his mother and a punishing reminder of his failure as a son.

 

~

 

When his father discovered he was a parselmouth, catching him hiss at the snake in his mother’s garden, he re-appraised his son with glittering, calculating green eyes. He had patted his son on the back with a smile and that evening gave his son a rare crumb of affection – a dessert of sweet chocolate cake that was so rich and sumptuous, it was almost stomach-churning.

Soon, Eliott’s sketching in the garden and baking sessions with the house-elves were replaced with tutelage under the stern eyes of his father. Spell-work, defensive and offensive maneuvers, poisons and potions, legilimency – Eliott was subjected to grueling hours of instruction and lessons that tried his endurance and patience and were far too advanced for someone his age.

Along with these lessons came another, seared into Eliott’s head by the inflectionless, emotionless voice of his father:  

“You will not associate with mudbloods, you hear me? They are inferior – squibs and defective witches and wizards who have no concept of true magic, true power, true allegiance. Don’t ever let me catch you with one, Eliott. You will not be a disappointment like your mother.”

 

~

 

By the time Eliott was ready to attend Hogwarts – his father having vehemently eschewed Beauxbatons in favor of the school that his forefather had founded – Eliott had become a poised, precocious boy that was very, very lonely. He, who had grown up in ice and silent violence, longed for something – someone to thaw the slowly hardening knot in his chest that was his heart.  

He met that someone on his first train to the school that would become his true home.

 

~

 

He had remembered little of that first day due to the nerves and the fear. He had been dropped off by his father who hadn’t even gone to see Eliott off to platform 9 ¾.  Despite his composure and raised chin that could be and would be in the future be mistaken for arrogance, Eliott was a ball of anxiety and nerves – what twelve year old wouldn’t be on the first day of school?

 

He did remember the stares and the whispers that followed him as he pushed his trolley heaped high with his belongings along the platform – his barn owl Demeter hooting softly. He remembered the dread that grew inside him as he hurried inside the train’s corridors, trying to find an empty carriage or a carriage filled with friendly, non-judgemental eyes.

He remembered the moment he bumped into the boy and all his worries paused for a breathtaking moment.

He was unusually small for his age with messy brown hair and wide blue eyes. He was pretty, Eliott’s mind supplied as his eyes tracked the boy’s movement to the carriage that was filled with three other laughing boys who were munching on chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes. What had given Elliot pause, what had stood out most to him, was the boy’s red-rimmed blue eyes and the traces of tears in them. Those eyes that carried with it a sadness that Eliott recognized.

Veela’s could be fickle creatures, easily enamored and just as easily bored. However, when a Veela met their match, met the person they knew was theirs, they had eyes for no one else. Enraptured. A Veela’s love was intense – not something to be taken lightly or trifled with.

 Something stirred in Eliott when he saw the boy with unruly brown hair and steel-blue eyes – something scorching and possessive and not entirely human. He followed him carefully with his eyes and watched as a tall, handsome boy hugged him. Jealousy immediately thrummed in Eliott’s veins. His eyes narrowed in on the two boys and he not so discreetly watched and listened in.

“Hey Lucas! We saved you some chocolate frogs from the jaws of Baz. We know how much you love them!” Lucas brushed away any stray tears and hid the sadness in his eyes so effortlessly and quickly, that Eliott knew he must have had practice.

Elliot watched with a smile as the Lucas’ eyes lit up with happiness. “Thank you Yann! You’re the best.”

 

So, the boy’s name was Lucas.

 

“Lucas,” Elliot whispered the name to himself and as he settled in the one empty carriage at the end of train, Eliott felt a small bloom of hope curl itself around his heart.

 

 

~

 

 

As the years passed and Eliott’s reputation grew as a wizard, as the whispers turned into open adulation and chants of “Golden Boy” at quidditch matches, so too did Eliott’s fascination and infatuation with a quiet Hufflepuff whose eyes reminded him of his mother’s periwinkle flowers.

 As the years passed, Eliott began to painstakingly stitch together what made Lucas.

Lucas was naturally shy and an introvert – but around his close friends he was source of unbridled humor and warmth. Lucas was moody and could be withdrawn, as evidenced by the amount of times Eliott caught Lucas all alone in a quiet corner of the library, or secluded in one of school’s greenhouses deep in thought. When Eliott became Lucas’ partner in Potions in third year, Eliott noticed a small but noticeable crescent scar, like a soft kiss, near the corner of Lucas’ mouth. Eliott knew that Lucas was gentle and attentive, a wizard who loved to see things grow and thrive and seed and bloom and live. Eliott saw the smudges of dirt on Lucas’ hands that reminded Eliott painfully of his mother. Elliot coveted the beaming smile that graced Lucas’ face when anyone mentioned anything related to flowers or plants.

 

Eliott always held back though. Fearful and cautious of so many variables and worries – his father’s wrath, his own bouts of numbing lows, his mother, the incident…. Lucas’ shyness and the seemingly frantic, panicked look that arose in his eyes whenever he saw Eliott. Was he afraid of Eliott?  

 

~

 

So, Eliott measured the years in sketchbooks and dried flowers.

 In the sketches he secretly drew of the beautiful boy with sad eyes.

 In the flowers that reminded him of his mother and the fragile loveliness of Lucas’ smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demuary Manor – Basically I picture it as what the Malfoy Manor looked like in the movies – cold and imposing and filled with portraits and ostentatious decorations. 
> 
> Cauldron cakes- Popular wizarding cake that are sold on the Honeydukes Express trolley on the Hogwart's Express 
> 
> House-elves - Small creatures commonly found at large houses and mansions of pureblood wizards who rely on them as servants. House-elves are very loyal to their masters and can only be set "free" if their master gives them an article of their clothing. 
> 
> Squib- someone who is born into a wizarding family but doesn’t possess any magical abilities 
> 
> Beauxbatons – A magical school that is like the equivalent to Hogwarts except that it’s located in Southern France. 
> 
> Demeter – Greek goddess of harvest and the cycle of life and death


	7. Chamomile and Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two boys, two different pathways, two immeasurable losses. So different and yet so alike.

Consciousness arose in fragments and shards. Muffled noises sharpened into voices. The bitter tang of antiseptic mingled with the comforting smell of lavender reached his nostrils. The bright red warmth radiating against his closed eyelids gave way to sunlight.  

 

Lucas opened his eyes.

 The first thing he saw was… flowers. Irises. His favourite. Lucas blinked slowly at the bouquet at the side of his bed that was truly of gargantuan proportions. Was he hallucinating?

As the fog in his head dissipated and Lucas took stock of his surroundings, he realized he was in the hospital wing. What had happened? Lucas shut his eyes as pain suddenly flared at his temples – a vicious headache similar to the ones he got after a night of drinking firewhisky with Basille and Yann. Ouch.

He groaned as he stretched. His whole body felt like one giant bruise.

An annoyed chittering had Lucas looking down. It was Wade, puffed up and irritated that Lucas had dislodged him from his nap in the hollow of Lucas’ collarbone. “Sorry little guy.” Lucas stroked Wade gently and tried to piece together what he could remember… He had gone with Eliott to feed the mooncalves… they had went for walk… they had kissed (Lucas ears reddened as he replayed in his mind the way Eliott had pressed close to him and threaded his way through his hair)… and then…

 

“Lulu! You’re awake!” Lucas’ train of thought was abruptly cut off as he was smothered by several bodies.

“Ow, ow, ow! Guys you are squishing the life out of me. Wait, watch out for Wade!” Yann, Basille, Arthur, Mika, Daphne, Manon and Imane had all piled themselves atop him. As Mika sheepishly disentangled himself from Lucas and held his slightly flattened, dazed pygmy puff in his hand, Daphne plopped herself on his bed and lightly smacked him on the forehead. “Merlin! Don’t ever scare us like that again. I thought Basille was going to start setting things on fire again with his wand…. He was so anxious.”

“Hey! Invalid here! You can’t hurt the patient!” Lucas whined as he rubbed his forehead. “What even happened? I can’t really remember… the details are a bit fuzzy. Did I fall into the lake again? I remember Eliott and I are were feeding the mooncalves… and we… er – er we went for a walk. Wait where is Eliott?”

His friends all exchanged knowing, tense glances that instantly put Lucas on edge. Worry bubbled in his stomach.

“You don’t remember Lulu?” Yann went to sit at the foot at the bed and looked at Lucas, eyes full of concern. “Dementors were sighted in the Forbidden Forest and I guess you and Eliott ran into a flock of them when you were feeding the mooncalves… They – they tried to give you the kiss Lucas.

  People are still trying to figure out what got the dementors so riled up. Headmaster Derwent is furious.  Apparently, they were here on orders from the ministry to find that escaped prisoner from Azkaban but no one is buying… there’s rumors going around that there’s a much darker reason for the increased dementor activity. Anyways, Eliott… I knew he was powerful, but not to the extent that he could produce a full corporeal Patronus and take out a full army of dementors… He sent a message to Headmaster Derwent and brought you here, unconscious.”

Yann swallowed hard and looked stricken for a moment. “They didn’t think you were going to make it… This was two days ago Lucas. When I first saw you I thought you _were_ dead. You were so pale and looked like you barely breathing.”

Lucas felt lump in his throat as he took in what Yann said. He hadn’t realized it had been that grave… he felt weak and drained but hadn’t chalked it up to nearly having his soul sucked out of him. All his friends looked teary eyed and their worry brought a feeling of warmth to Lucas’ stomach. He truly didn’t know what he’d do without them. He reached out to grab Yann’s hand in reassurance. “Hey I’m sorry for worrying you. As you can see I’m all good, barring a migraine but that might just be because I have to stare at Mika’s obnoxious pink dress robes.” Lucas joked, trying to lighten the mood. The unusually somber Mika finally cracked a smile and arched an eyebrow teasingly. “You love a man uniform Lucas, don’t lie.”

Lucas rolled his eyes and made grabby hands at Mika until he deposited Wade back into Lucas hands, but not without muttering that Lucas had stolen his pet.

 “I hope you guys haven’t been camped out by my bedside and losing sleep for the last two days… Oh! Did you guys get me these irises? … And Yann, you didn’t tell me… where’s Eliott now? He’s okay right?”

Daphne and Manon exchanged knowing looks with a smile. “Aww Lulu, as much as we wanted to get you something, Eliott beat us to the punch. He came in with the flowers, saying something about how they were your favorite. He refused to leave your side but then Headmaster Derwent called him away… there’s been rumors going around that his father, _the_ _Lord Demaury_ , summoned him for a talk… we can’t imagine why, but it must be something pretty significant for him to leave his post in the Ministry. Since then we haven’t seen him around, just the one time he came in with these flowers… I have to say though Lucas, he was looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky or something.”

Manon’s face grew serious and she chewed her lip in worry. “When he first brought you in… well he looked scary, he was in _full-on_ Veela mode. He barely let Madame Pomfrey touch you until she gave him an earful and a calming draught. Even after that he still was watching you like a hawk.”

Basille gave a shudder. “His eyes were pitch-black and you could just sense the… well I don’t know what to call it, but I guess the _darkness_ radiating from him…. he was practically vibrating with excess magic and energy. Merlin I wouldn’t want to cross him and get on his bad side.”

In an instant Lucas suddenly was transported back to _fear, cruel eyes, taunting voices, Eliott – eyes hooded and unrecognizable in his ferocity, and teeth…  sharp, pointy… gleaming, the sound of slithering and the sibilance of a forked tongue._

“Hey Lucas! You doing ok?”

Lucas blinked and came back to himself. He was clenching his sheets so tight; his hands were white and there was a faint ringing in his ears.

“Uh yea. Sorry just had a dizzy spell… I’m still feeling like the Hogwart’s Express ran over me.”

Arthur nodded sympathetically and patted Lucas’ head.

“Well a dementor’s kiss will probably do that to you. Get some rest. Don’t worry, me and the boys are taking care of all your notes… and I’m sure if you ask Imane nicely she’ll cover you for Divination and Ancient Runes.”

 Lucas smiled appreciatively at his friends and reached his arms out for a group hug that ended in Wade being nearly squished to death again. The pygmy puff seemed to glare at Lucas as he sat atop Mika’s shoulder.

 After his friends left though, the warmth in Lucas’ chest dissipated abruptly. He sat clenching and unclenching his fists, a cold, icy feeling of dread washing over him, and the image of a giant snake and razor-sharp fangs seared in his brain.  

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

Lucas was irritated. Scratch that, he was equal parts irritated _and_ disappointed:  Eliott was avoiding him.

And, as much as he hated to admit it, Lucas was feeling despondent. After he was released from the hospital wing, one of the first things he tried to do was to track down Eliott… both to thank him and to talk. However, the boy was like a ghost. He wasn’t to be found in his usual haunts and when Lucas did catch sight of him, it was only in glimpses – the back of his head as he walked away or the flash of his profile before he disappeared in the throngs of students crowding the hallways. Whenever they crossed paths, Eliott seem to flee. Even in Potions, where they were supposed to be partners, Eliott had studiously avoided eye-contact, speaking only to Lucas when he needed to _stir the potion counter clockwise twice_ or when to _dice and add the wolfsbane._ When class was over, Eliott had practically _ran_ from the room. Lucas didn’t know whether to feel insulted or if he just wanted to cry.

~

After downing the entire box of chocolate frogs Eliott had given him with Arthur in the common room, bemoaning the fact that Eliott wouldn’t so much as look at him, Imane had had enough. She plopped herself down on the couch Arthur and he lay on like sloths – and whacked him in the head with her Divination textbook.

“OWW. Imane. What was that for? What are you even doing here, you cruel, cruel Ravenclaw” Lucas whined and nursed his forehead.

“I am working on a top-secret project with Daphy and Manon, but that is besides the fact. You need to stop feeling sorry for yourself Lucas. Just go corner Eliott and force him to talk to you directly. I know Eliott…He doesn’t do things needlessly and he never toys with people’s emotions. If he’s avoiding you, there must be a significant reason why. Also, a little birdie told me that he likes to hang out with Hagrid tending to the hippogriffs and thestrals in his spare time on Wednesday… might be a good place to confront him, eh?”

Imane’s eyes softened and she ruffled Lucas’ hair affectionately. “Hey don’t worry Lulu. As I said, my brother and I have known Eliott for a long time and I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He also gets this look in his eyes whenever he talks about you or you’re brought up in conversation… Trust me, he likes you. You guys are just both acting stupid, but boys are stupid –  and clueless – so it’s not like I’m very surprised.” Imane rolled her eyes.

Lucas just groaned and rolled over onto Arthur and stole the last chocolate frog that was in his hand. Imane of course was annoyingly, rarely ever wrong. As Lucas munched on chocolate ignoring Athur’s indignant cries of “chocolate thief,” Lucas supposed it was worth a shot to corner Eliott and force him to talk.

 

~

 

Lucas needn’t have worried because before Lucas could even put his plans in motion, Eliott came to him first.

 

After the whole dementor debacle, Lucas had rested up in the hospital wing and generally felt recovered by the time he was discharged. However, he still felt the lingering effects from the near dementor’s kiss – he felt weaker than normal – walking up to the astronomy tower had nearly caused Lucas to embarrassingly black out –  and the bouts of fatigue coupled with the persistent feeling of sadness and hopelessness wasn’t helping his resolve to reach out to Eliott.

Lucas was in the greenhouse Tuesday afternoon, pruning the flutterby bush and imagining the wafts of cinnamon and jasmine came not from the plant but from an actual Eliott that he wished was beside him. He had just stood up to get more fertilizer when he was hit with a wave of exhaustion. Lucas breathed heavily as the world spun for a moment and he sat on the dirt, his head cradled in his hands as he tried to battle the vertigo.

The crunch of gravel and warm hands placed over his smaller ones. Lucas looked up and met green eyes.

“Lucas! Are you okay? Just take deep breaths. You overworked yourself, didn’t you?” Eliott looked a mix of concern and exasperation. “You should still be resting…” Eliott rubbed Lucas’ back and Lucas waited until the black spots faded from his vision

Lucas couldn’t help the bitter hurt that made him pull away from Eliott and stare at him accusingly. “Why do you care? The last few days you wouldn’t so much as look at me Eliott…” Lucas bit his lip, his voice wavering. “I remembered what happened on that night… with Ares and Kai… and you speaking to that snake. I just wanted to talk to you…” Lucas looked at Eliott beseechingly, “I know that I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. Why have you been avoiding me Eliott? Did I do something wrong? I thought that we…” Lucas trailed off, frustrated by the sudden tears that began welling in his eyes.

“Lucas…” Eliott looked devasted, his face frozen in so much guilt and regret that Lucas faltered – he just wanted to hug Eliott and get rid of that look of anguish.

Eliott looked lost and conflicted but he seemed to steel his resolve as he gently held Lucas’ face in his hands and looked searchingly at him.

“Lucas … I just needed some time… Can we go for a walk? Please? I can explain everything to you.”

 

 

~

 

 

The two boys found themselves sitting beneath the shade of a willow tree, along the shoreline of the Great Lake. It was a chilly, refreshing October day. The clouds scudded across the sky and the sun shone bright even as a nippy breeze caused Lucas to hide his face in his scarf. Lucas was a bundle of poorly concealed nervousness and anticipation.

“Here, before we talk, I was going to give this to you.” Eliott had held out a steaming silver flask. It smelled like comfort and summers spent with his Aunt and Uncle on the Highlands.

“It’s chamomile tea. It helps with insomnia and its very calming… I know from experience that dementors tend to leave quite a horrible, lingering impression.” Lucas gratefully took the flask and inhaled the swirling steam of honey and chamomile, enjoying the warmth that seeped into his cold fingertips. “Thanks Eliott.”

Eliott smiled sadly. “It’s the least I can do Lucas.” He heaved a sigh and started idly playing with the blades of grass and daisy stems that surrounded them.

“Where to begin. I just needed some time Lucas. I couldn’t look at you without feeling the guilt – the guilt of putting you in danger and seeing you lie there, barely a breath of life in you. I was terrified … and trust me, it takes a lot to truly terrify me. It’s my fault Lucas… please don’t even bother denying it. _It just is._

As you’ve probably gathered from the rumors and gossip, I’m half-Veela, descended from a line of French wizards and witches whose lineage can be in fact traced to the great Nicolas Flamel.” Eliott paused and smiled sadly.

“That’s where I get all my temper and what my mom would call tenacity from – a hot blooded Veela temper and an icy single-mindedness. On my dad’s side, well… it’s a bit trickier, a bit more obscure. All I can say is that I’ve inherited what all Salazar Slytherin’s descendants do – a parseltongue and heavy, heavy expectations. I can’t and won’t tell you everything… there are too many unknown variables and I want to keep you safe, Lucas. All I can say now are that certain _people_ with certain agendas are trying to recruit me – they need me for something. Ares and Kai are two such people. They are truly undead – they possess no humanity, only greed and the desire for power – and blood – which is why they are drawn to my father.

 As history has proven time and time again, it _does_ repeat itself; it may be truly impossible to stamp out all the bigotry and the rubbish concept of blood supremacy in the wizarding world. After the Dark Lord passed, all his followers and death eaters faded away. Yet, factions and shadows remain… and you could say my father is the _conductor_ of those shadows. I could be killed for what I am telling you, but…” Eliott looked at Lucas penetratingly, tracing his features with emerald eyes, “I trust you Lucas.”  

“My father is not a good man… He only evaded persecution after the war alongside all of Voldemort’s supporters and death-eaters because he is a snake. He knows how to twist and turn words against him against others…Deceit and poison are his allies. He leaves no trace of his crimes and if he somehow does, he knows the pressure points of everyone… he knows how to _silence_ anyone that would levy accusations against him – all with just a quiet whisper.” Eliott’s face twisted and he spat out, “I hate him.”  

“It’s because of him that –” Eliott cut himself sharply off and looked down.

 

Lucas’ breath caught and he reached out to gently turn Eliott’s downcast face to his. “What is it? You can tell me Eliott.”

Eliott’s eyes were hazy with the past as he spoke. “You wanted to know where I got these scars on my arms and hands right? Just to get a sense of the type of man my father is, I’ll tell you Lucas.

When I was eight, my father got it in his head that he needed to teach me what true power and strength was – this meant no unseemly feelings or any compassion for muggles or muggle-borns. Back then, in the summers we used to go to our manor in Provence, in the countryside. It was a pretty isolated place, but that summer we had new neighbours – they were a family of muggles with a son who was around my age. His name was Alec.” Eliott’s eyes grew more distant. “We used to sneak into the vineyards and pretend we were like that muggle adventurer, Indiana Jones, seeking some lost treasure. I did this all of this in secret of course. My father would never ever allow me to talk to or even so much as look at what he called “mudbloods and filth.””

Eliott eyes were filled with disgust for his father and Lucas couldn’t help but reach out to take hold of his hand and begin to rub soothing circles into it.

“Well one day, the one day he was supposed to be out in Paris winning over some high-ranking diplomats from the British Ministry of Magic, my father found us tussling and joking around in one of the nearby fields.”

Eliott’s voice broke.

“He didn’t say anything to me.  He just said “Eliott,” and took me firmly by the hand and quietly led me away.

That night he told me he wanted me to do something for him, like a good son. He told me he wanted me to go over to Alec’s house and use an Unforgiveable Curse on him, for practice – for “fun.” He had tutored me almost maniacally in all forms of magic up to this point. He thought it was the opportune time, at the age of eight, to now teach me how to control, hurt, and kill through the Unforgiveables.

When I refused he made me take the Unbreakable Vow Lucas. If I wasn’t going to do it willingly, he damn well made sure I did it unwillingly. He made me take an Unbreakable Vow to kill Alec to prove my worth.”

Lucas barely suppressed a gasp. The cruelty and insanity of Eliott’s father was incomprehensible.

“I refused of course, but to refuse and go against the Unbreakable Vow means death. But I wasn’t going to do it Lucas. I wasn’t. But something happened…” Elliot’s eyes filled with utter anguish. “Something happened and I ended up killing the boy, but not on my terms. Yes, I fulfilled the vow, but it was twisted, an imperfect, deeply cracked fulfillment. I didn’t die, but I was left with these scars.

When I took the vow, I remember the thin jet of fire that came out of my mother’s wand to wrap itself like a writhing, red-hot snake around my father and mine’s hands. It branded me – left me with the marks of a permanent bond upon my flesh. When I completed my father’s bidding, but not quite right, not in the way he entailed, the vow recognized this. The scars grew, spread up my arms, like liquid silver. It hurt – excruciatingly and unbearably.

They don’t hurt anymore – just their reminder of all the deaths and hurt I am responsible for and the reminder of all that I have failed to do.”

 

Lucas was speechless. The cruelty of a father unhinged, the sheer vulnerability in Eliott’s eyes, the death of an innocent boy… Lucas sensed there was more to the story but didn’t push. Not when Eliott was looking at him with those sorrowful, green eyes of his, looking for the first time since Lucas had laid eyes on him unimaginably lost… and vulnerable. Lucas was only filled with more love and appreciation and awe for the boy in front of him. To have gone through that but still emerge as a strong wizard with such patience and immeasurable kindness…

“Eliott… I can’t… I don’t know what to say. All I know is that from what I’ve seen and know of you is that you are strong and brave. You didn’t deserve to have that happen to you… and it’s not your fault – all of it. What happened to Alec and what happened to me. Sometimes things are out of our control and we are dealt circumstances we cannot change nor escape from, not without losing a bit of ourselves in the process – that doesn’t make us bad people. It’s life and whatever God or being is up there influencing fate. What matters is that you didn’t want to do what your father told you to do and what matters is that despite all the shit that has happened to you, you are still kind, loving, and one of the best people I know.”

Elliott looked at Lucas as if he wasn’t real – as if he was some sort of willow-o-wisp, some sort of mirage that would disappear in the murmur of a cool breeze. His green eyes glimmered with unshed tears.

Eliott spoke hesitantly. “When I heard you scream after Kai hit you, something in me snapped. If something had happened to you….just like Alec…” Eliott paused and a look of anguish crossed his face. “I wouldn’t know what I would do Lucas…All I could think in the moment was _not Lucas._ Can I… can I hug you? It’s just that the last time I saw you … I just need to make sure.” _Make sure you’re breathing and you’re going to be okay, that we’re going to be okay._

Lucas didn’t say anything, just reached out and wrapped his arms around Eliott… and Eliott just melted. He slumped into Lucas with a soft sigh and rested his forehead against Lucas’ shoulder. He inhaled the comforting scent of lilies and vanilla that surrounded Lucas.

For a moment both boys just breathed in and out, secure in each other’s presence, calm knowing that in this moment they were okay, that they could trust and lean on each other.

 

~

 

 

Fingers intertwined and breaths mingled. Lucas rested his head on Eliott’s chest and carefully traced the veins and lattice work of silver scars on Eliott’s hands and arms with his fingers, imagining the different pathways and decisions Eliott had faced as a young child growing up in a lonely manor with a heartless father.

Two boys, two different pathways, two immeasurable losses. So different and yet so alike.

 

Without a second thought, Lucas leaned up and softly pressed his lips to Eliott’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbreakable Vow: A magical binding contract between two people. If the one who accepts the terms of the agreement beaks the vow, they will die. A third person is needed to cast the vow and act as a witness. When the vow is cast, a thin stream of fire will issue from the witness’ wand, weaving itself around the hands of the pair taking the vows.
> 
> Next chapter expect a date in Hogsmeade :)  
> ~ comments and kudos always appreciated ❤️ ~


	8. Hogsmeade and Hamartia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He kissed Lucas as if they simultaneously had all the time in the world and only a dwindling crystal hourglass’ worth of seconds.

Often it will catch him off guard in the most innocuous, mundane moments. Sitting in class half-asleep. Walking with the boys to play Quidditch by the Great Lake. The prick of a rose thorn. The salty coppery tang of homemade candy from Basille’s mom. An omnipresent prowling specter of a memory ignited by breadcrumbs that will probably haunt Lucas till the day he dies.

~

Later, when Lucas came to – when he had opened his lashes, tinted white with dust and flecked with blood – the first thing he noticed was the silence. The blast that had torn apart the British Museum had ruptured both his ear drums and he was plunged into suffocating, ringing silence. It was as if the Death Eater’s spell had opened up a volatile vacuum in its wake, a black hole that had suck all sound and sanity into it. Lucas then noticed the eyes.

His dad’s blue eyes, the same blue he had inherited, stared blankly at him. Once vivid, they were dull and had a glazed aspect to them that at five years old, Lucas associated with the cold, frosted windowpane in their attic. His mother’s eyes were a different case. They had always been a lovely, warm hazel, open and kind. Lucas’ father used to say she wore her heart in her eyes.

Lucas would never forget the flicker of pain in them as they blinked slowly at them. _Lucas_. Her mouth opened but no sound came out, only a trickle of blood. Years later Lucas would dream of his parents sitting across from him; eyes shuttered and mouths opening. But only sickening silence. The kind that drives you insane. Lucas would wake screaming until his Aunt started giving him Dreamless Draughts.

Lucas crawled, bringing his small, bleeding body to his mother’s just in time to catch the faint mouthing of _love you,_ to feel the warmth ebbing from his mother’s hands that he clutched in his, and to see the gentle, final exhale that brought his mother out of his life too soon for any anger, remorse, crying, fear, confusion – for any emotion except for overwhelming numbness.

Later, when the Death Eaters came and surrounded him in a circle, like some hellish fairy ring, Lucas was so consumed in this numbness that the first _Crucio_ that knocked him flat on the back almost was anesthetized by it until he felt the pain that he imagined was equal to grief shredding apart a heart, reducing it to dust.

 

Lucas would have a lifelong aversion to dust and silence. He could barely stand to be by himself for extended period of times; when studying alone he always had to put on music, and he became an obsessive cleaner. Arthur always attributed his cleanliness to some mild form of OCD, but it was really Lucas’ need to never feel dust,  to never see it drifting softly down to touch his skin to remind him of how it had covered his parent’s corpses like a shroud, and to never have to scrub it from his skin like the Medi-Witches did at St. Mungos, washing the dust and blood and tears from his skin in a swirl of red.

Maybe that was why he was so drawn to Herbology. Rich dirt and green leaves and sweet jasmine to cancel out the tragic rubble of his past and to keep his ghosts at bay.

 

 

~

 

 

 

October flew by in a blur of pumpkin spice and crisp apples, November dragged along through muddy Quidditch pitches and icy drizzle, and December finally descended in a glow of good cheer, sticky toffee pudding, and Eliott, Eliott, Eliott.

Eliott with his golden eyes and gentle hands and patience. Lucas didn’t even bother responding anymore to Daphne and Manon teasing him about him and Eliott being a powerhouse couple or how over the moon he was for the half-Veela. It was the truth.

Lucas had fully recovered from his brush with Ares, Kai and the dementors, and any rumors of the escaped prisoner from Azkaban or any dark stirrings had faded away; he now liked to imagine it was just some half-formed delusion that he could banish to the far corners of his mind. Why bother with such unpleasant thoughts when Lucas’ days were now marked by the glow of Eliott’s eyes and the warm timbre of his laughter?

It had become customary for Lucas and Eliott to study together in the spare classroom that Eliott first comforted Lucas in after his brush with the Boggart. Those were the moments Lucas cherished the most. Just him and Eliott, whiling away the hours together in the coziness of the room, surrounded by chocolate frog wrappers, a chirruping Wade who was half-comatose with the sugar he had consumed, and floating candles that Eliott had charmed to emit warmth and the faint scent of apple pie. Eliott coached Lucas on his Patronus charm while Lucas gave Eliott tips on the best ways to re-pot Wolf’s Bane and all matters of Herbology. As the winter days grew shorter, darker and colder, Eliott and Lucas grew closer in their own little bubble of light.

 

~

 

“Your hair is its own majestic being.” Eliott teased Lucas one lazy Friday evening, an evening so frigid and cold all the students had barricaded themselves indoors with cups of hot cocoa and clandestine goblets of fire whiskey. Lucas had been dismissed early from Herbology by Professor Longbottom who told Lucas to warm up before he caught his death.  Lucas’s head, which was weary after hours of re-potting screaming mandrakes and feeding the thestrals, rested in Eliott’s lap. Eliott carded gently through Lucas’ untameable locks and the tufts of chestnut brown that refused to lie flat. Lucas closed his eyes at the sensation and felt like a cat purring beneath the attention of its owner. “Mmmm that feels good. It’s not my fault I was blessed with hair that puts Potter’s and L’Oreal commercials to shame.” Eliott blinked a bit cluelessly at the reference to the Muggle shampoo brand and chuckled fondly. He tweaked Lucas’ nose playfully before thoughtfully and ever so carefully tracing the small moon-shaped scar at the corner of Lucas’ mouth. Lucas closed his eyes contentedly and drifted for a bit.

He was jolted out of his first forays into pleasant dreams of walking on rolling hills and vast moorlands by soft, full lips pressed to his. Lucas smiled. He kissed Elliot back.

Eliott kissed with a kind of languid intensity that never ceased to take Lucas by surprise. He kissed Lucas as if they simultaneously had all the time in the world and only a dwindling crystal hourglass’ worth of seconds.  Maybe it was part of his Veela heritage, for there was always something faintly unhinged and primitive about Eliott when he lost himself in Lucas. Hands that gripped more possessively, eyes that flamed gold, teeth that left soft impresses of purple on the crook of his neck that Lucas knew he’d have to cover up with a scarf. Lucas loved it. Loved the way he tugged on his hair and pulled Lucas impossibly closer, unconsciously interlacing their fingers and hands and hearts together as he kissed Lucas until he was breathless, and almost whimpering with heady desire and want.

Lucas whined outright when Eliott pulled back suddenly. “Wait, wait before we get carried away, there’s something I’ve been waiting and wanting to ask you, Lucas.”  

“Can’t it wait?!” Lucas said exasperatedly, his cheeks still warm and his hear pounding, as he made grabby hands at Eliott. Eliott grabbed both of his hands gently and stroked them, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Well…. I know we’ve both been busy with exams and after everything that happened… well we haven’t had time to do much together besides studying and practicing and… snogging, which is great, mind you, but well… well –“

“If you say “well” one more time I’m going to kiss you and not stop” Lucas said in frustration. “Ok, ok” Eliott’s cheeks were stained pink. “Lucasowuldyouliketogoinadatewiffmeee??”

“What?” Lucas said perplexedly. “Maybe slow it down a notch.”

Eliott took a deep breath, his hand nervously brush a lock of hair from his dace. “Sorry, I’m not used to this. Lucas, would you like to go on a date with me…  a date to Hogsmeade this weekend? Like just the two of us, to Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop?”

Lucas blinked in surprise. “Um yea. Why are you so nervous? We’re already dating and yes of course I would like to go with you.”

Eliott exhaled in relief and threw his arms around Lucas who huffed annoyedly as Eliott squeezed him enthusiastically to his chest. “Yes, but Lucas you’re like my first boyfriend… and I want to get things right.” Eliott pulled back

 

 

~

There was something that Lucas had been meaning to ask Eliott too, something that made Lucas nervous and excited and maybe wondering if it was too soon… if their relationship was moving too fast, too intensely. But Lucas never did things by halves. When he was sad, he was devasted, when he was angry, he was a spitfire and when he loved he loved with his whole heart. A ‘Firecracker of Emotions’ is what Mika dubbed him, but Lucas was starting to think that Eliott was the same too.

There were still a few snooty Slytherins that glanced askance or hissed insults beneath their breath at Lucas when he walked by, hand in hand in with Eliott. It was probably insulting to them that Slytherin’s pride and joy, the Hogwart’s golden boy, had been snatched away by some lowly, insolent Hufflepuff. Lucas couldn’t care less and ignored the stares and whispers. Yann and Arthur’s cajoling and excited shouts of “Elu! Elu!” canceled out any negativity anyway. Eliott also had the knack of simply looking assertively into any mean-spirited eyes and making them look down, intimidated and abashed by his cool, unassuming and tightly coiled power.

There were moments when Lucas was reminded of Eliott’s immense power. Like when he watched the serpentine silvery form of his Occamy patronus flit around the spare classroom, or when Eliott made it shower peonies made of ice that warmed his skin when they fell on him. Or, when Lucas discovered that Eliott was trained in occlumency and a skilled legillimens himself.

“My father used to plant visions of my mother dying, over and over again in my mind” Eliott whispered to Lucas once, in the lethargic lull between classes and dinnertime, when he thought Lucas was sleeping soundly on his chest. Lucas gripped Eliott’s hand in his and turned to look into Eliott’s sad eyes. They didn’t say anything. Eliott inhaled sharply and stroked Lucas’ cheek, feeling and seeing the echoes of Lucas’ past through the labyrinthine twists and turns of the mind.

 

They had both lost so much.  

 

~

 

 

“Looks like there’s a storm about to come.”

 

 

Eliott and Lucas had trudged earlier that afternoon through piles of snow that glistened beneath blues skies and a golden sun. Hogsmeade had been aglow with Christmas cheer. Windows were festooned with colourful bunting and garlands of holly and poinsettia flowers that flashed from green to red in a blink of an eye. Mistletoe hung everywhere, making it difficult to navigate the pathways as so many people kept stopping and starting – obliged to kiss lest they be trapped beneath the charmed mistletoe.

 

Lucas was in high spirits. Growing up, Christmas had always been a slightly subdued affair. His Aunt and Uncle did the best they could, but there was still the obvious, glaring absence that was made more cutting during the season of family and festive cheer. This was perhaps the first time he felt completely unburdened and light. He was content watching Eliott’s face light up with childish delight as he spotted a choir of somber ghosts singing carols being pelted by Peeves, the ever-cheeky poltergeist, content with savouring the slabs of honeycomb chocolate Eliott had bought him from Honeydukes, content with throwing snowballs at Eliott’s head when he wasn’t paying attention, content, content, content.

Lucas had even done a bit of Christmas shopping for the gang. He has bought Manon a beautiful crystal ink pen that had swans intricately carved into it, Daphne a pair of silver earrings that chimed Christmas tunes on command, Yann a warm, burgundy scarf made of alpaca and mooncalf fleece and Basile and Arthur a bunch of games and practical joke objects from Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

When they shuffled into Madam Puddifoot’s Shop, their faces were red from the cold and the exertion of waging an intense snowball fight, they delighted in the warmth and sweet smells of freshly baked goods. The shop was steamy – full of fragrant vapours from the brewed teas and coffees – and crammed full of delicate china, lacy napkins, and decor Lucas imagined belonging to a cheeky grandmother.  

They quickly found a cozy nook full of plush, silver and gold pillows and warm throws that Lucas immediately sunk into with a relieved sigh. He wrapped himself in a knitted throw and peered out from his nest of blankets and pillows to watch Eliott order their tea and food.

“You look like a grumpy kitten,” Eliott chuckled as he set two chipped mugs full of steaming Oolong tea on the table and a plate full of warm, crumbly shortbread cookies.  “I like the snow but hate the cold,” Lucas sniffed through a red nose. Eliott reached over and grasped his frozen hands in his. “Merlin! Your hands are like blocks of ice. How are you functioning?” Eliott began to rub and massage Lucas’ smaller hands in his and Lucas tried not to blush. He failed as Eliott trained his green eyes on his. “Did you know Lucas, that we somehow miraculously managed to evade every single sprig of mistletoe in Hogsmeade? Imagine that?”

Lucas grinned. “Too bad I don’t need some Christmas plant to do this.” Lucas reached over and tilted Eliott’s face towards his, kissing him teasingly before opening his mouth and swiping it playfully against Eliott’s lip before biting down softly. Eliott groaned and opened his eyes that flashed gold. “We better stop before I can’t stop myself and we get charged for public indecency.” Lucas smirked but relented and settled for snuggling into Eliott’s warm side.

~

As they conversed quietly between bites of shortbread and sips of tea, Lucas slowly built up the courage to ask Eliott his question. He hoped the answer would be yes.  “U-um Eliott…? I was wondering. The Christmas holidays are coming up and I remember you saying that you usually just stay at Hogwarts for it. I was just wondering if you would like to come back with me to Edinburgh?”

“It’s totally fine if you don’t want to or can’t and I am asking you something quite big for only dating a few months… but I just thought it can get a bit lonely at Hogwarts and my Aunt and Uncle would be delighted to meet you. It would be a lot of fun and I could show you where I basically grew up,” Lucas continued in a rush.

“I would love to have you come,” Lucas continued softly, looking down, unable to meet Eliott’s eyes. “I’ve really gotten to know you over the past few months and I’ve never felt so happy and understood… I- I don’t feel as alone.”

Blue eyes met green. Lucas almost looked down again. Eliott looked at Lucas like he was something precious, like the last flower of the season to be cut and pressed delicately between parchment so the memory of the summer’s day it bloomed on would persist.

“Lucas, when I am with you, I’ve never felt so at peace before.” He touched his cheek gently, “All those nightmare and blaring thoughts always running through the back of my mind are silenced whenever I’m around you. I don’t feel so alone either. I would be beyond delighted to be with you and your family for the holidays. Thank you for asking me Lucas.”

Lucas felt a warm bubble of elation and relief rise in his chest and he leaned over and kissed Eliott hard.

“Mppmhh!—” Eliott looked a bit dazed as Lucas pulled back with a grin. “I can’t wait. Arthur and Yann live nearby so we can all meet up. This is going to be the best Christmas ever!”

Eliott smiled warmly at him, eyes crinkling fondly. “Yes it will be,” he whispered softly, almost sadly.

 

~

 

“Looks like a storm’s coming,” the matronly woman manning the till said as she peered through the fogged-up window. It was true – as Lucas and Eliott made plans for the Holidays the weather had taken a turn. What was once big, fluffy snowflakes had become hard pellets of ice that lashed against the windowpanes of the shop. They could hear the wind rattling the doors and windows and feel it seeping through the cracks, like tendrils of frost creeping closer.

“We should get back before the weather gets worse and we have to brave a blizzard,” Eliott said as Lucas downed the last of the honey milk tea. “Good idea.” Lucas peered out the steamy windows and saw the vague shapes of people struggling through the icy wind that whipped up flurries of snow. Lucas winced; he truly hated the cold.

As if sensing his reluctance to leave the tea-steeped warmth of the shop, Eliott wrapped his warm green and silver scarf around his neck and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I have never been so excited for the Holidays in my life. I can’t wait to meet your friends and meet your Aunt and Uncle.” Lucas grinned and interlaced his fingers with Eliott’s as they headed out into the blustery cold.

As they trudged through the streets, Lucas was so lost in his daydreams of bringing Eliott back home and showing him his favourite muggle spots and cafes, that he didn’t notice that the streets were now eerily vacant and silent.  Eliott stopped abruptly, his gaze far away. Momentum carried Lucas forward and he would have slipped if it wasn’t for Eliott’s sturdy but absentminded grip on his wait. “Eliott?” Lucas tugged on his sleeve. “Are you okay?”

Eliott turned to Lucas, his eyes now dark. “Something’s wrong. Someone is trying to get into my head… and I think someone’s cast a weather-modifying charm, this isn’t normal weather –“

But before Eliott could say more the wind howled preternaturally and a huge torrent of ice and snow flung Eliott away and Lucas apart. Lucas flew through the air and landed on his side; his fall luckily softened by the snow. Dazed, he looked up and it seemed like he was surrounded by white walls, the snow, wind and ice, so thick that he couldn’t see anything. He was blinded by the whirlwind. “Eliott!” Lucas screamed but his voice was snatched away and silenced by the gale-force wind.

Suddenly the roar of the wind and the burning lash of ice ceased. Lucas realized he was simply in the eye of the storm, the center of quiet and anticipation as the blizzard raged around him. A dark, grinning figure emerged. Lucas scrambled to his feet, and despite knowing it was futile, tried to run.

“Ah ah ah. Not so fast,” a mocking, musical voice called. Suddenly he was in the grip of immoveable, bone-crushing steel. Ares grinned down at him, his fangs glinting like shards of glass, before he ripped Eliott’s scarf from his neck.

His smile was cutthroat. He brought his nose closer to Lucas’ neck and inhaled deeply, his burgundy eyes engulfed by his dilated pupils so that they became pitch black, like glittering chips of obsidian. Lucas shuddered, paralyzed in mind-numbing fear. “Mmhhm. What I would give to just sink…” Ares trailed dreamily off. “No, no those weren’t the orders though.” With reluctance and inhuman restraint, Ares’ bloodlust was held at bay as he pulled back to stare down at Lucas. He trailed a finger along one delicate, pulsing vein in Lucas’ neck as he talked in his raspy, blood-thirsty voice. His finger came to rest on one of the love bites Eliott had recently left on his neck.

 “Now Lucas, please be a dear and tell our Eliott he needs to do something for us. Tell him his father needs him to be obedient for once and to come to London. Tell him we need to dig up some old bones.” Lucas tried to cringe away from Ares but Ares simply gripped him harder and spun him around so Lucas’ back was to his chest, a mockery of a lover’s embrace. His finger pressed harder into soft bruise that Eliott had left lovingly behind. Lucas hissed in pain. Ares’ breath upon his neck made him shiver and left goosebumps in their wake.

“You know Lucas, that I’m over 450 years old. Young, by vampire standards. But I’ve seen enough… Enough to know that every insignificant human, like every tragic Greek hero has their _hamartia_ – their fatal flaw that regardless of whatever they do or do not do, brings them to their knees at some point in their short lives.” Ares gripped his arms tighter and Lucas knew there would be bruises forming like manacles around them. His whisper was like honeyed venom in Lucas’ ear. “Do you want to know what Eliott’s _hamartia_ is?”

“He loves foolishly and relentlessly, even when he knows it is futile. Pathetic and cliché, really, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

Lucas gasped as Ares’ nail pierced his neck. Blood trickled down and Ares turned him so Lucas could look at his cold smile. Cruelly, he dug his nails in deeper and pressed hard, choking Lucas and smearing blood across the purple marks Eliott had left behind.

“You’re lucky I have the utmost restraint and discipline. Unlike my brother Kai of course.” Ares winked at him. “Best be off before Kai gets too eager to join me… afraid Eliott would be coming back to a cold corpse.”

 Lucas closed his eyes as Ares bent and kissed his neck, right where he had cut into it, right where Eliott had lavished him with a kiss the night before.

A violent imitation.

Blood glistened on Ares lips and he licked them reverently, closing his eyes. He moaned. “Like fine wine. Remember, Lucas, to tell Eliott our message and that we are waiting… our patience has limits and it would be a shame if more blood was to be spilt. If you should forget, remember what Eliott's harmartia is.”

~

 

When Lucas opened his eyes again, he was alone, sprawled out on the ground. The wind whipping flurries of ice and snow into his eyes. The tips of fingers feel like leaden stone. Everything was a whirlwind of white and cold around him.

Lucas shivered and tried, through blurry eyes, to get his bearings. Blood was seeping into the collar of his shirt and his whole neck felt inflamed, like a giant, throbbing bruise.

“Eliott?” His voice was a frantic whisper lost in the wind. Lucas watched, transfixed as drops of his blood fell in the snow, like the beautiful, velvety petals of a rose.

 

 A storm indeed had come.


	9. Hellfire and Hesitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas nodded numbly, folding his hurt away like a small, creased and unwanted origami figure.

As quickly as the storm came it subsided in a sigh and one final lash of icy wind against Lucas’ cheek. Shock and mind-numbing exhaustion suddenly weighed down Lucas’ limbs and he keeled over onto the snow. It was a soothing balm against his cheek. He closed his eyes. He could feel something trickle down his neck. Warm stickiness.  

Lucas drifted in and out, his mind a haze as his body came down from the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Lucas knew he should get up, should find Eliott, should tell him… _come to London… dig up some old bones…_

But it was as if his mind was wholly detached from his body. Idly, Lucas realized he was shaking uncontrollably and clenching his fists so hard that talons of pain blossomed across his palms. 

//

Lucas remembers in fits and starts – what happened after the aurors came, collecting his parent’s bodies and ushering him away past the rubble and blood smeared tiles, rushing to get him away from the crime scene.

“Don’t look. Keep your eyes down.” 

Lucas remembers a voice whispering gently into his ears and a solid, callused hand holding his. He remembers not heeding the auror’s words, letting them slip through his ears. He remembers seeing absolute carnage – splinters of wood and shattered glass. And bones. Fossilized bones strewn across the museum’s cracked marble floors. Shards of petrified calcium and broken minerals. 

Above all, he remembers the bodies that were hewn apart, littering the floor like broken ragdolls, and two sets of eyes – a pair of red feral eyes and a pair of black eyes, calm but equally unnerving in their frigidity and calculation. A werewolf and vampire, the only comrades of the death eaters to be captured. Snarling and bristling the werewolf had needed the jinxes of five skilled aurors to subdue it. The vampire, seemingly unaffected and nonchalant despite the Incarcerous Spell that immobilized its limbs, had grinned suddenly as Lucas was bundled by. Razor sharp fangs had gleamed in the dim light, dripping with blood. 

//

_Lucas! Lucas!_

All of a sudden, the flood of fear and memories that smelled of sulphur and blood rushed in, breaking through his numbed state and Lucas gasped brokenly. “Eliott!” 

He felt fingers brushing the hair from his face and gently wiping tears that had pooled beneath Lucas’ lids. Lucas opened his eyes and met Elliot’s frantic, concerned face. “Lucas, are you okay?! Talk to me, what happened?! Someone enchanted a storm and disarmed me and I tried to find you but –“

Eliott abruptly cut-off. Lucas felt Eliott bring one had carefully to his neck. He saw him re-assessing Lucas’ state – taking in the bloodless pallor of Lucas’ skin, the uncontrollable shaking of his body, the chattering of his teeth, and then the bloody, tacky mess that was his neck. “Lucas,” Eliott said softly, a whisper that was nearly lost in the cold air. Eliott immediately knelt and threw his wool cloak around Lucas, bundling and gathering Lucas into his arms. He cast a quick healing charm and Lucas felt the stinging in his neck abate and the shallow cut along it seal. Eliott gazed down at the still silent and almost catatonic Lucas. He hugged Lucas to his chest suddenly and Lucas closed his eyes as he rested his head against his warm, sturdy chest, breathing in the comforting smell of cinnamon and jasmine. Lucas listened to the rapid beating of Eliott’s heart and heard the shaky exhale from the taller boy. 

They sat like that, in each other’s embrace, silently reassuring themselves that the other was okay, that the tide of fear could be stemmed by breathing in and out together, hearts and minds in sync. 

// 

Eventually Lucas stirred. “Eliott,” he whispered and immediately winced. His voice sounded like a scratchy, disused record. Eliott’s luminous eyes immediately zeroed in on him and the Slytherin ran his hands soothingly through Lucas’s hair. 

“Lucas, can you tell me what happened just now. What happened to your neck?”

Lucas shivered and spoke disjointedly, still feeling disoriented and shocked by the torrent of traumatic memories conjured up by the wicked grin and silky voice of a rogue vampire.

“It was Ares…He  was here, Eliott. I don’t know how he found us. He wanted to tell you something – wanted me to tell you something –“ Lucas spoke falteringly. “He said that you needed to listen to your father for once and that you need to go back to London… to look for old bones?” Eliott’s grip tightened around Lucas and his eyes grew stormy.

“Eliott what did he mean? What bones is he talking about? What is going on?” 

Eliott ignored Lucas’ questions but asked his own: “Is that where you got this cut… from Ares? He fucking did this? Did he touch you anywhere else?”

Veela were known for their intoxicating allure, their preternatural ability to lure in and beguile. But no one had warned Lucas of the primal state of rage they could descend into. Looking into Eliott’s eyes that burned gold, Lucas saw the rage that burnt bright. Like hellfire. Eliott closed his eyes and took a deep breath, shakily, trying to calm himself down. “I will fucking kill him,” Eliott swore venomously. To see the usually composed and collected Eliott swear murderously frightened Lucas beyond belief.

“He didn’t bite me… he just scratched me…” Lucas went to abate Eliott’s anger and tried to pull off a lighthearted tone. “I swear Eliott, I’m fine. I’m overreacting. He just sniffed me and treated me like an overgrown snack, he said I smelled good.” 

The fire in Eliott’s eyes grew and he looked even more agitated. “That doesn’t matter. Once Ares sets his mind on something, he usually gets it.” 

 Lucas sat up, faint stirrings of annoyance growing. “Well can you maybe tell me something about what the hell is going on? Why is he after you in the first place and how do you know him? What does your father want from you?”

Eliott gritted his teeth and shook his head. “I can’t. Not now. Let’s get you warm and back to the castle.” 

Lucas stubbornly set his jaw, even though he was still shivering, the cool seeping into bones. “No. Tell me now.”

Eliott’s lips tightened. “It isn’t safe here. They could come back and you’re trembling like a leaf still.” Eliott’s eyes softened and he looked beseechingly at Lucas. “Please Lucas?” Lucas wanted to be annoyed at Eliott; being treated like he was spun of glass was starting to grate on his nerves and he knew Eliott was deliberately withholding information from him. One imploring look from Eliott shattered his resolve. “Fine, okay.” 

With Eliott supporting Lucas, they stumbled through the snow back to Hogwarts, any remaining cheer and happiness from their date dissipating into the sombre air. 

//

Lucas refused to be brought to the infirmary again, so Elliot brought him through the Slytherin common room into his bedchambers. The room was empty, all of the students at the Great Hall for dinner, and Eliott settled Lucas on the four-poster bed. He closed the curtains around them and cast a silencing spell.  

Lucas just curled up, a pillow to his chest, and for, a beat, just stared at Eliott. The boy’s hair was messy, worried hands making it into a dishevelled but somehow still artful mess. His eyes had cooled down back to their forest green and the cold air left a flattering blush of pink across his alabaster cheeks. He was vibrating with tense energy though – his shoulders taut and a frown pulling his eyebrows down. He hovered over Lucas, pulling the duvet covers over Lucas’ smaller frame and checking the temperature of forehead. Lucas frowned.  

“When I found you, you were in shock Lucas.” 

“I’m fine now. I just was reminded of some bad memories. Ares isn’t exactly the best of company. You can stop fussing.”  Eliott pulled back, hurt and hesitation in his eyes. 

Lucas sighed. “Sorry, I’m a little high-strung right now. I’m just lost. I want to know what’s going on Eliott.” 

Eliott took Lucas’ cold hands in his and started to rub them between his, warming them up.

“It’s okay. I understand, I’m just worried. When I lost sight of you in that blizzard, all I could think about was you getting hurt. I really lo- care about you Lucas.” Red blossomed across his cheeks. Lucas felt his heart stammer in response.

Eliott continued though, “… whenever Ares or my father is involved… it’s not good news Lucas. Usually it means someone is going to get hurt.” Eliott stilled his hands to tilt Lucas’ head up. Blue eyes met green. “… and that means the less you know, the better. The less I involve you in his machinations and schemes, the better. I know it’s frustrating and not fair to you, but I rather you be angry at me now then hurt later.” 

_I am hurt now_

Lucas gritted his teeth. “So you’re going to leave me in the dark? Isn’t that worse? I need to know what’s going on in order to know what’s a threat to me.” Eliott stared back, eyes impenetrable. Lucas knew his resolve was ironclad and they were at a sickening stalemate. 

Lucas tried another tactic. He softened and threw his best puppy eyes at Eliott. “Please Eliott? Tell me what Ares is talking about. You’re going to be coming over for Christmas, and when we spend time together I don’t want this hanging over us. I don’t like feeling like you’re keeping secrets.” Lucas hugged Eliott. “Please Eliott? I want to be there for you. You know I am here for you. You can tell me anything. 

Eliott’s breath caught and he melted into Lucas’ embrace – but then he pulled away.

|   |    
---|---|---  
  
Lucas felt his heart drop and something in his chest retreat. “I can’t. I’m sorry Lucas. I know I said I could come over for Christmas, but with recent events… I have to go to London. I can’t be so near to you right now. You saw and experienced what happened today. I will not put you through that again; your safety must come first. I’m so sorry Lucas. I promise we can keep in touch via owl, and the break will past quickly… I will see you soon after, before you even know it.” 

Lucas nodded numbly, folding his hurt away like a small, creased and unwanted origami figure. There was nothing more to say. “Okay then. I understand.” Lucas burrowed his anger and fear down deep, long accustomed to it, and feigned a yawn. 

“I’m tired, I should get back to my room.” Lucas made to get up, but a hand grasped his wrist suddenlt. Green eyes looked searchingly into his, concerned.

 “Don’t. Don’t leave. Stay here and rest. Please Lucas. You need to understand that I am just protecting you” As always, Lucas was powerless under Eliott’s sad, pleading look. Lucas sighed softly and then smiled bitterly. “Okay, Eliott. We have make the most of our time together.” 

//

Lucas curled up and tried to match his breaths with Eliott’s. Sleep evaded him. He cast a quick Tempus. It was 4 am in the morning and Lucas hadn’t slept a wink. 

He watched the steady rise and fall of Eliott’s chest and tried to stop the ball of anxiety in his chest from growing. 

Thirty breaths in, he started to cry.

 Silently, chest heaving, Lucas let the tears course down his face. He felt utterly alone … and he hated to admit, but scared. He was scared of Ares, he was scared of the memories that still haunted him, he was scared of the rumors about the resurgences of dark movements in the wizarding world, and, above all, he was scared of Eliott leaving him. Tears pooled onto his pillow and Lucas tried to be quiet as he felt the hurt swell in his chest. 

Suddenly, a hand snaked itself around his waist and he was pulled to a warm chest. Whispers and hand stroking comfortingly down his back. “It’s okay Lucas. I’m not going anywhere ( _But you are_ ). We’re going to be okay ( _Will we?)…_ Once I get some things taken care of. I promise _(People in my life have rarely made promises they can keep)_.”

//

Lucas fell asleep to Eliott humming something soft and sweet in his ear. A haunting lullaby. It sounded like a goodbye. 


	10. Interlude: Fearful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boggart revealed glazed, black eyes that were devoid of life, a euthanized soul and invisible threads.

The boggart revealed glazed, black eyes that were devoid of life, a euthanized soul and invisible threads. 

Invisible threads tied to limp limbs, to be tugged and yanked, moving his body to the whims of an unyielding master in some grotesque mockery of a dance. 

 

When he confronted the boggart in the classroom, he saw his greatest fear.

 

Flashbacks of leather-bound journals and dried flowers –- pressed lupins and anemones and daisies – interspersed with his mother’s gentle, dirt-smudged hands. He tasted despair and failure in his mouth and felt the searing brand of the Unbreakable Vow, a curse winding its way around his hands and arms, leaving nothing but scars that twinged and burned with phantom fire to this day. A constant reminder of a hurt and guilt that left him waking up at in the early hours of the morning, panting and shaking with cruel memories that refused to unhook their claws into him. He would wake and sit in his bed, surrounded by quiet darkness and the soft snores of his classmates who slumbered on. He would be gripped by a sudden wave of fierce resentment and jealousy – resentment that his classmates could sleep so soundly, so deeply without any childhood demons to traumatize them, and jealousy that he never had the upbringing they had. Family outings to Quidditch matches and buttered popcorn and Christmases with warmth and joy and hugs and love that was not conditional but absolute.

 

He would rise and trudge to the Owlery at the top of the West Tower, memories nipping at his heels. He would pet his Great Horned Owl, Alma, and would watch the sun, a dim orange glow suffusing and beginning to burn the indigo-black of the sky. The moon was still a stubborn presence in the sky, a luminescent and lonely silver crescent. Surrounded by the soothing hooting and crooning of hundreds of owls, watching the moon reluctantly bid farewell to a love that would always burn him, Eliott could close his eyes and revel in the magic and beauty and warmth that made Hogwarts not a school, but a home.

 

 

/

 

 

One morning that found him shaking with the dead eyes of a little boy and ruby-red wine spilt across white sheets, Eliott arrived at the Owlery only to find a boy with blue, blue eyes petting Alma and fussing over the owls who preened and slowly blinked their glowing eyes under the boy’s attention. Lucas. Eliott watched quietly, hidden in the shadows of the archway, wishing that he could work up the courage to talk to the boy who had caught his heart since that first Hogwarts Express. Lucas gently stroked the soft, tawny feathers of Alma’s head and Eliott smiled fondly, content for the moment to observe, as he had done over the years, the boy who he’d become a silent sentinel for.

  


//  


Eliott hated mirrors with a passion that rivalled his hatred for pureblood rhetoric. He understood and accepted that due to his half- Veela heritage, people would always be enthralled. Green-gold eyes would always stun, chiseled cheekbones would always be envied, and people would always whisper covetously about his beauty. But it was not beauty he saw when he looked into the mirror.

 

He saw his father.

 

The mirror image of a cold, cold man who tore apart his life. If he had his mother’s demeanor – her aloof but unwavering kindness, gentleness, and heart of gold – he was all his father in looks. He had not the ice-blonde hair of his mother, but the raven locks of his father, the same emerald eyes, the same high cheekbones, and the same tall stature. He was always told, by his father’s accomplices growing up, that he was the carbon copy of his father. Eliott knew though that he was merely the flawed and cracked quartz to the shining diamond perfection that his father demanded from him.

 

At the age of eight, Eliott had been too young to know about the subtleties and complexities of Unbreakable Vows and Unforgiveable Curses. When his father asked him on that sickly warm summer’s evening in France to kill his muggle friend Alec and closed this command with an unbreakable seal, Eliott didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. Not until the blood has leached from his mother’s face and her usually unflappable, poised bearing cracked. Eliott remembered the emerald necklace clasped around her elegant neck glinting in tears. His mother had tolerated many things in her loveless marriage to his father. The one thing she was unwilling to tolerate was gambling the life of her son, the child that was the only source of comfort and love in her life.

 

She had finally reached her limits. She knew no eight-year-old boy with no hint of malice in his heart could be capable of wielding the killing curse; however, she knew of the unacceptable collateral. A death sentence on both ends. The life of her son if he failed to do the deed, which he was doomed to, and a life that would be utterly devoid of joy and meaning. So. So when Eliott was half-asleep, she had roused him from cold silk sheets and hugged him tightly to her. She had grasped his face in her hands and looked in her eyes and said the only three words he had longed to hear, and the only three words that mattered: “I love you.”

 

Eliott had smiled and an instant later, became a vacant doll.

 

 

_Imperio_

_“Go over to the Boulanger’s house and kill their son Alec”_

And that’s what Eliott did. He came to beside the lifeless bodies of his friend and mother, with the haze receding from his mind, green light still tinging his vision, and fire searing white scars into his hands. Yes, he was successful, but at the cost of his mother’s life. The Curse recognized the imperfection; the lack of his volition and a mother’s attempt to cheat death. It demanded retribution and was happy to exchange his life for his mother’s. After he unfroze from his mother’s Imperius, he had knelt beside the only two people in his life that had lent him warmth until his father had wordlessly arrived. Without sparing a glance at his late wife, he had led Eliott away without a single world, bruising Eliott’s wrist in an iron hold. He had locked Eliott in his bedroom and proceeded to kill Alec’s entire family before collecting his wife’s body. Not a single word of comfort was given and after that day, not a single word more would be spent on his mother. It was as if she had never existed.

 

Eliott would curl up in his bed and finger the dried petals of the velvety roses his mother would once gather to add some life in the coldness of the Demaury Manor.

 

//

 

 

To this day, Eliott tortures himself with wondering whether his mother cast the Imperius Curse, knowing full well that her life was forfeit or whether she believed she would live another day to hold Eliott in her hands.  

 

//

 

 

So when Eliott looks at boggarts all he sees is a mirror image of his father – a lifeless doll controlled by the whims of higher, crueler powers and a soul-sucking Imperious Curse. This is why he will not become another toy in his father’s campaign, another puppet to be sacrificed to build another reign of bigotry of terror. He would not become a mindless killer and he would never, ever harm the boy he loved. Lucas belonged to a different, safer, brighter world. He knew when he saw the blood glistening from Lucas’ enflamed neck that he would rather die himself than endanger another innocent life.

 

Watching Lucas sleep soundly in his embrace, Eliott steeled himself – preparing to distance himself from a boy that had finally brought flowers and sun into his life again.


End file.
